


Bad End

by P5R



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Ending, F/M, Gen, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-10-16 01:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 74,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17540021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/P5R/pseuds/P5R
Summary: On November 20th, a cloudy Sunday, Akechi shot Ren Amamiya.





	1. 11/20/20XX (prologue)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A multi-chapter Bad Ending for Persona 5, which will mainly focus on Akechi. 
> 
> Please be aware that there will be dark topics including suicide, drug abuse, torture, animal death and murder in several chapters.
> 
> Updates on Saturdays. Please enjoy!

_**“EVER since the** **death** of their teenage leader, the Phantom Thieves have fallen silent.”_

_“As reported, the group has been suspected of being responsible for several deaths of citizens and fatal accidents, the incidents starting to occur approximately one year ago. After being arrested, the police department stated that the leader of the group, who allegedly had a criminal record, shot himself to death while being in custody before police forces could interrogate him. The police intend on continuing the investigation until the case is fully solved.”_

_“And now, for the weather forecast. Rain chance increases to around 50 percent during the night. A few showers with the possibility of a storm will move west across the state in the afternoon. With scattered showers and some storms, the bad weather will continue—"_

Without a word, Makoto turns off the old TV-set. Brows knitted in concentration, she keeps her gaze settled on the murky screen.

Seven teenagers, who have been leading perilous double lives as the Phantom Thieves over the past year, have gathered in the shabby attic of an old café, the warm orange glow radiating from the heater in the center of the room softly illuminating their silhouettes. This room, were it all had started, had weld them together. Just a few days ago, they had used this hideout as they had many times before: to meet and plan their next infiltration and treasure raid. The spirit of energetic chanter and determination burning in their eyes as the group had so many times discussed whose heart they’d change next, argued which steps should be taken, lighthearted laughter and celebrations filling the scarce room whenever they had succeeded; the memory still lingers in the air, but with one of them missing, the hideout of the Phantom Thieves lies in unusual perplexity today.

It has gotten late, the sun has already set and Haru is sitting on the edge of the improvised bed, peeling and slicing what must have been the 30th apple. Not a lot of time has passed ever since Joker's capture, but with the pending uncertainty, every hour seems to stretch endlessly. Open questions, uncertainty and unsaid doubts linger in the dusty air, the silence only interrupted by Ryuji’s nervous fidgeting with an empty coke can. They all had thought that Joker would return sooner. They all have one, the same thought, but no one is able to speak it out loud just yet.

“Would anyone like to have some fruit?”, like a mouse’s, Haru’s tiny voice cheeps quietly into the silence as she weakly offers a plate full of rabbit-shaped apple slices. There is no immediate response, no one even shifts.

“Thank you, I’m… not feeling hungry today”, Yusuke declines politely when no one else replies.

“This is horrible”, Haru suddenly whispers, firmly putting the apple bowl sitting in her lap away. “I can no longer sit and act like everything’s alright…”

“Haru, calm down, for eff’s sake”, Ryuji says and fails in recapturing the can which falls and bounces off the floor with a gulling clank. “We’ve been through this for a million times now. As far as we know, the plan worked out just fine. Hell, there is nothing that proves otherwise. We can’t do shit until we know what’s going on, right!?”

“Still… It’s odd. I’m having a bad feeling. Somehow, I feel like we oversaw a crucial detail in our plan…”, Makoto says sternly, standing in front of the window with a hand on her aching temple. She is tired, her mind exhausted, but she has to think clearly now. Had they really considered _all_ possible scenarios?

“What if he noticed he went into the Metaverse?”, Ann chirps in, restlessly tangling the end of one of her pigtails between her fingers. “What if something in there gave us away? Maybe that’s the reason it went wrong?”

“What kind of dumb reason is that?”, Ryuji rocks his tilted chair back forward on its feet, the uncertainty causing his level of aggression to peak during the last hours. “How would he have noticed? You don't realise when it happens if you're entering an undistorted area. I mean, it’s not like there’s sound effects playing and blinking signs or something. For real, have you never paid attention?”

“Would you please stop snapping at me like that?”, Ann bitches back at him, wigwagging her arms. “I’m not stupid, you know. It’s just always been very obvious to me whenever I entered the Metaverse. I’m just trying to come up with something to help us find out why it’s taking so long. At least I’m trying t... would you finally put the can away, it’s so annoying!—”

“—Then stop fumbling around with your damn hair like that, it freakin’ eff’s me out!”

“Stop, you two, for heaven’s sake. Fighting doesn’t get us anywhere.”, Makoto intervenes.

“…I have to admit, it would be a miracle if our plan really worked out”, a depressed voice comes from the floor where a small figure sits crouched against the bed, face buried in her knees. “Uuughhh… the whole plan ran on goodwill and the favor of the Ancients, with a giant number of possible fail spots. Starting right with ‘what if Sae can't get into the interrogation room.’”

“We didn't truly have a whole lot of options at hand.”, Yusuke answers solemnly. “Even if we had evaded Akechi's trap by getting out of the Palace, we would have been caught immediately after. We were forced to find a way to make it look like our leader had left the board entirely.”

Morgana jumps from the table to sit next to the little pile of misery. “We know you did your best, Futaba, so please stop worrying. For now, let’s stop twisting our minds and try to keep our calm. Haru… I never thought I would say this, but I agree with what Ryuji said. If we start any kind of action, whether it's hiding or retaliation, he’d know something's up. Acting completely normal is the best way to throw any suspicion off.” Nevertheless, no one misses how Morgana sounds just a bit less confident than usual.

“Yeah, but… I feel bad… because the whole plan was my idea…”, Futaba murmurs, old familiar self-hatred weighting down her narrow shoulders. “Somehow, when I initially had the idea, I had a feeling that it would be easy peasy, I felt so confident that it would work out just fine, but… it seems my feeling was… very wrong.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Futaba-chan…!”, Haru tells her, worriedly touching her shoulder. “If anything, we agreed unanimously that we would go along with this plan. No one is at fault. Besides, there’s no use in finger-pointing at anyone.”

“Haru’s right.”, Ann says. “Coming up with a bullet proof plan was nearly impossible. We have no idea who our true enemy is, we don't know who is aware of our identities besides Akechi, all we know is what Akechi’s plan for the Casino heist was. That's it. How would we put together a perfect plan with that much info?”

“We’re all in this together. Besides, as Yusuke said, it was the only plan we had.”, Morgana says bitterly.

“But I feel uneasy. It feels wrong to just sit around and do nothing”, Haru speaks from her heart. “What if he’s still there, deep underground. What if they’re trying to get a confession out of him, or try to force him to reveal our identities? W-what if they’re…” She bites her lip, clenching her fist around the knife in her hand. “…if they’re _torturing_ him?”

“Please, let’s… Let’s just go it through one more time.”, Makoto urges, restlessly walking around the room. “Futaba—you said you had the correct coordinates of both phones, yes?”

“I checked it a million times. It works without single failure.”

“You waited until the GPS coordinates overlapped. Then you sent the signal to remotely access the Metaverse app.”

“Yes…”, Futaba mumbles, pulling her pathetic legs closer. “There was the chance that your sister would forget the phone or leave it on the table if Ren wouldn’t be able to convince her, but the GPS started moving, so at least she picked it up. Then the GPS signals were approaching each other. There was a chance that they’d pass each other without a single word, but the GPS stopped when they met, which means they did talk. I didn’t know when Sae would show him the phone, so I panicked and sent the request multiple times without knowing 100% if the display would be within his vision… If she had carried the phone in her hand, that would have been enough for him to spot it…”, Futaba mumbles, a tiny ray of hope in her eyes.

“Maybe he didn't really need to look at the phone, just be near it…?”, Haru chirps.

“More like make eye contact with the phone…”, Ryuji says. “The eye in the app is not just for looks, ‘ya know.”

“But we tried the mechanics out before, didn’t we?”, Yusuke says. “We know it’s not necessary look at the display directly, it is sufficient to simply see the cellphone itself.”

“That’s how I entered the Metaverse the first time”, Ann throws in. “I just caught a glimpse of Ren’s phone around the corner, and poof… ended up in Kamoshida’s Palace instantly.”

“But how did you not know what was going on? Didn’t you have an effin’ remote feed from the camera installed or somethin’?”, Ryuji barks in. “Since Ren's phone was bugged, why didn’t we just overhear everything that happened right from when they were in the interrogation room?”

“That’s right”, Ann says. “You’ve been listening to the phone since Hawaii, right Futaba?”

“I have, I have!”, Futaba exclaims. “But, you know, it was underground! There was no signal inside the interrogation room, but I had just enough in front of it... It was like 3 pixels at first, but then I slowly received vision. However, the screen was dark, and it all went so fast, Akechi was already there—"

“It was dark? Like, the inside of a bag?”, Makoto asks alarmingly.

“N-no, I think it was just because she had it in her pocket. A-anyways, after some seconds, I finally got enough signal to hear their voices and see something, so I just kept s-slamming the activate button!”

“So she definitely showed him the phone”, Morgana says. “Did Akechi react in any way?”

“He just looked at it briefly and he must have heard the phone beep… just seemed a little surprised, if anything. But it’s not like… no, he didn’t seem to notice anything strange.”

“What happened next?”

“Well, they ended their conversation, parted ways, and Akechi went inside the interrogation room. And then…” Futaba wraps her arms tighter around her tiny insignificant body.

“Then you lost the GPS signal”, Makoto finishes her sentence, crosses her arms, and leans her back against the wall.

“I just smashed the button, and right after Akechi saw it, the remote feed suddenly went black… and I got no response from the phone.”

“So we don’t know why you suddenly lost connection to the phone. Couldn’t it be because it entered the Metaverse?”, Yusuke suggests.

“Yes, isn’t that a good sign?”, Makoto asks. “It just means he transferred to the Metaverse, right?”

“Of course!”, Ryuji exclaims. “That must be it!”, Morgana says equally eager.

“Yes, but the connection never came back, did it?”, Haru says, her tone almost apologizing to break dear hopes. “You didn’t get a GPS signal afterwards.”

Futaba whimpers in distress, her hands flying to her head. “T-that’s the strange thing—everything seemed to work as planned, except for that. I know it should have worked, I spent a whole night preparing and beta-testing it!”, she wheezes. “I tried to reconstruct the error, but it never happened when I tried it with my own phone. You lose the GPS signal while being in the Metaverse, of course, but as soon as you return, it should be back. I just don’t know… what went wrong… “, Futaba's eyes seem to flicker like a broken TV screen’s as she holds her head as if trying to prevent it from exploding. “It was a simple case "play": NavApp.Play(); break; command, the app was commanded via URIs, and I used a /hook up event handlers_remoteSystemWatcher.RemoteSystemAdded += RemoteSystemWatcherOnRemoteSystemAdded;—, and I even checked if the NavApp would freeze or cause error messages if I used it at the same time with the front camera but it wasn’t a problem, I really can’t… can’t think of anything… but something, something… what did I forget?! Just why…”

“Futaba, let’s try to stay calm and think straight”, Makoto says. “Have you perhaps recorded Ren’s phone feed?”

“Of course I recorded it. I recorded everything Ren has done on his phone over the past five months. Of course I recorded that, too. Right before the connection is lost, you can see the NavApp icon getting bigger, filling the screen…”

“It opened! It went through!”, Ann exclaims happily. “Isn’t that great!?”

“…before turning black and not sending any more signals. I mean, i-i-it could be possible that Sae broke the phone after she showed it to Akechi, t-to eliminate the evidence or something!? I don’t know anymore… This is so confusing. There are too many if conditions…”

“What about security cameras?”, Morgana asks. “There must be security cameras outside. Futaba, can you hack into the police station database so we can look at the recording?”

Futaba doesn’t move for a moment, then suddenly as if possessed, jumps and flips open her laptop on the bed. Immediately, the Thieves gather behind her to watch over her shoulder. “You’re right”, she says awestruck. For several minutes, they all watch her with hearts beating in their chests and without understanding a thing on her screen as Futaba’s fingers aggressively dance over her laptop keyboard.

“Alright, there it is”, Futaba says, “the right date and time. Wew, that was easy. It’s just a video, though, but I added the audio recording from Ren’s phone.”

“Great job, Futaba.”, Makoto says breathlessly.

She pulls up the video, pauses at the moment Sae leaves the interrogation room, facing away from the camera. There is a small pause, Futaba’s face pale and sweaty as her cursor lingers over the play button.

“So, are we gonna watch it, or what?”, Ann urges.

“Well, it’s not like it truly matters”, Yusuke says. “What has happened, has happened. We can’t change a single thing about it now.”

“We need to see the recording!”, Makoto suddenly says a bit too loud, then, after realizing this loudness, lowers her voice. “Maybe there is something that can help us figure out if it worked. Let’s look at the recording.”

All of them are watching the screen with thumping hearts. The camera screen is flickering for quite a while, Sae’s words too distorted and stretched for them to understand. Then finally, after several seconds, both the picture and the voices get clearer.

“She took it out of her bag!”, Futaba squeals.

 _“…this phone look familiar to you?”,_ they hear Sae’s voice.

“And right now! Did you hear that? Did you hear it beep!?”, Futaba exclaims while Makoto immediately slaps her hand on Futaba’s mouth to keep her silent. “That’s the beep when I opened—”

Nothing happens. Akechi stares at the phone. They exchange a few final words, then part ways.

“One more time, go back, one more time”, Makoto stresses and Futaba obliques by inelegantly slamming the reverse button.

“Just what… what happened…”

 _“…this phone look familiar to you?”,_ and right after Sae pulls out the phone, a small beep is to be heard, “That sound…”, Makoto thinks. “The sound when it opens… doesn’t it sound… different than the NavApp sound?”

“What do you mean?”, Ryuji shrugs. “The NavApp doesn’t make any sound when you open it, right?”

“Now that you say it, it does sound kinda familiar”, Ann says, clueless.

They all stare at the screen in confusion.

“Oh. Look”, Yusuke says, pointing at the recording of Ren’s phone display. “That strange red blinking icon.”

All their gazes follow to where Yusuke’s pointing, the small icon listing the percentage of battery life remaining, showing the estimated time remaining before the battery dies. Right as Sae pulls out Ren's phone to show it to Akechi, there is a 1% low battery alert on top of the screen and the Metaverse app opens just before the phone shuts off, dying with a piteous whining noise.

Silence falls over the teenagers.

“The battery”, Futaba whispers in mortification. “The battery _died_.”

“I recognized the sound because some of you have the same model.”, Yusuke says. “He had no access to electricity while being in custody. Truly, something not even the cleverest plan or an experienced hacker could prevent.”

“So we don’t know if it was enough for the app to transfer him”, Ann murmurs. “We have no clue if our plan worked.”

“Yeah… we still know nuffin’.”

“And Sae never received the automatic messages to reveal the truth about Akechi…”, Futaba whispers.

The thick, heavy atmosphere that has been looming over them seems to grow heavier with the sudden absolute uncertainty.

“It was a gigantic gamble, fittingly enough.”, Makoto murmurs.

“It was a risky maneuver indeed”, Yusuke agrees reluctantly, his breath visible in the cold room as he speaks. “I still can’t believe we… truly did that.”

“You guys are waaay too serious”, Ryuji says but sounds quite agitated himself. “I mean, he’s a cool guy, right? He can do it. He’s going to make it. If anyone can do it, it’d be him. I just know it, man.”

“We can’t say for sure.”, Makoto says, tone serious. “My sister hasn’t been answering any of my calls tonight. As far as I know, she even was pulled out of the case. It is possible that even she doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“Anyways…”, Morgana says, “no matter how much experience we have by now with the Metaverse, there are still many uncertainties and things we don’t know. Besides, a lot of time has passed. I can’t deny that there is an actual possibility of failure. We should be prepared for the worst scenario. In that case, it would be very likely that Akechi would come after us and try to kill us as well.”

Nobody says anything after that, Haru anxiously continuing her apple peeling. There is the sound of Ryuji crushing an empty coke can in his hand.

“Tse. If only we would have just confronted that bastard when he wouldn’t shut up about ‘saving him’ down in Leblanc”, Ryuji grumbles. “I swear, I was so close…”

“What if we just go to the police and turn ourselves in?”, Yusuke says.

“We’re not going to prison. The police are on Akechi’s side. He’s going to kill us for sure.”

“That’s enough, stop it, guys!” Ann blocks her ears with her hands and shakes her head, blond pigtails flowing in denial. “Our plan was good, it worked. Ren is doing fine. You know him, he’s… he’s a great guy, he just… likes to take his time. Let’s just… wait a bit more.”

“I really hope you’re right. But… We also have to face the truth. There is a possibility that the mission failed, and in that case, we have to be prepared for the worst.”, Makoto says, closing her eyes. “We just know one thing for certain: Something didn’t go as planned.”

There is a very strange silence after she’s said that. Being Joker’s unofficial second in command for the longest time now due to her natural talent to lead and think strategically, Makoto feels the heavy weight of responsibility on her shoulders. They’re awaiting her orders, relying on her to make the right decision right now. The problem is, if Ren really was gone, she… she really wouldn’t know what to do.

Realizing that the others are expecting instructions from her, she clears her throat and steps forward, away from the wall. “Well… To sum it up, we’re powerless to do anything as long as we’re not certain what happened.”, Makoto states the obvious. All eyes are settled on her. “For the time being, I don’t think it’s safe for us all to wait here at the café. We should break up for now, in case something leads the police back to Leblanc. Let’s go home and try to get some sleep to regain our strength. We will continue our daily routines, and not raise any suspicion. Let’s all stay cautious and most importantly, please stay safe. We’ll stay in touch over text messages, and… I will inform you about everything I can get out of my sister tonight.”

No one moves after she has given her first order. Makoto questioningly looks around the room.

“I’ll stay here”, Futaba says quietly.

“Me too”, Ann says, hugging her knees close to her body. “I… I don’t know about you guys, but I… really can’t be alone right now.”

“I’ll stay, too”, Haru says while carefully putting a blanket over Futaba’s shoulders.

When nobody else bothers with actually standing up or going home, Makoto gives in with a reluctant sigh.

“Fine”, Makoto she says, returning to her standing point at the window sill. “If nobody wants to go home, well, then… I suppose we’ll all stay here and wait.”

There’s nothing left to say after this and soon, every member of the Phantom Thieves is again busy with their own individual thoughts as they’re waiting underneath the dangling light bulb; all seven of them deeply connected in their hearts by their collective wish for their leader’s return, deeply anticipating the familiar chime of Leblanc’s doorbell downstairs.

Soon, a deafening silence falls over Leblanc.

 

 

 

 


	2. I Won't Let It End Here

**2 weeks later**

 

 **THERE is a** **warm** , pliant young man sitting in the back of the metro, his head sleepily tilted against the window, an attaché case hugged close to his body. Lucky for him, the young rookie detective has managed to grab a seat today. Despite his popularity, he still uses the metro everyday since it appeals to the crowd to appear down to earth _—_ However, he normally does enjoy his rides on the subway quite a bit. The soothing sounds of the train help him sort out his thoughts, prepare for the day, and it’s a convenient opportunity to observe other passengers and gather intel on topics that are currently on people’s mind. Sadly, he had to get up far too early today, and his head is still heavy and somewhat dizzy this morning, preventing him from being as attentive as he should be. With the pleasant warmth in the not yet overloaded wagon and the distant sound of the metro news screen fading into background noise, he soon finds himself drifting off into sleep again.

_“…that the recent series of mass mental breakdowns has found its latest victim with the tragic death of another police executive, who suddenly collapsed yesterday evening while driving in his car on the way to Sumaru City. According to the statement of the police department, a mental breakdown is the most likely cause of the incident, causing the man to suddenly accelerate his vehicle to 142 mph on a busy motorway. The man died instantly when his car hit a stationary 18-tonne lorry and collided in a brutal four-car crash with several casualties, decapitating the driver of…”_

“Oh, shit, here we go again.”

“How terrible. It never seems to end.”

“It must be those remaining Phantom Thieves going rampage.”

“I can’t believe I used to support those Thieves for some time. You know, back when they only changed hearts of bad people. Didn’t they take down that Big Bang Burger CEO? I heard nasty shit about him from some friends who used to work there, it was an open secret that everyone wanted him gone.”

“Yeah, but then they snapped. Suddenly started killing people for no reason at all.”

“All the fame and popularity must have gone to their head. It was a pretty predictable outcome, if you ask me. That happens when kids try to act as social justice reformers.”

“Kids, you say?”

“Haven’t you heard? Rumor has it that their ringleader was a teenager on probation. He attended a high school here in Tokyo. Wasn’t older than my daughter.”

“Oh, heavens. To think that a youngster like that would turn out to be a killer. Imagine how his parents and former classmates must feel.”

“My daughter used to be a fan of those Phantoms, too. Even bought merchandise of them down in Shibuya. I hope she’s come to her senses now and thrown that stuff into the bin.”

“So the police still haven’t captured the rest of them? What the hell are they even getting paid for?”

“If you ask me, I’m blaming those damn politicians.”

Akechi makes a cute noise when the passengers’ discussion wakes him up. He blinks confusedly, realizing he fell asleep.

“You’re right. They’re just watching and do nothing about the killings. They're indecisive, afraid of speaking their minds. I bet it’s because the Phantom Thieves might target them next if they try anything against them.”

“They’re all corrupt and devoid of colorful personal lives—no wonder the public hates politicians by now.”

Now feeling a bit more awake, Akechi slowly takes out his ‘A.’ labeled notebook, his eyes soon deeply absorbed by the open pages while he side-eyes the other passengers absently. A strange atmosphere has fallen over Tokyo’s population recently, depressing and dark, the ninth mental breakdown in only three days overshadowing their usual apathy and anxiety. Even some international media have started covering the incidents by now. Too many deaths have been happening, too many are in fear that they might be the next ones.

The train arrives at his destination and Akechi gets off the train. The long subway hallways are plastered with the Freedom Party’s election posters. On his way out of the station a demonstration catches Akechi’s attention, a large group of people holding banners saying things like “ _STOP THE PHANTOM THIEVES_ ” and “ _SAVE THIS COUNTRY—VOTE FOR FREEDOM PARTY_ ”. Akechi tries to quickly walk past them without being recognized. Out of the crowd of protesters, a little child suddenly comes running at him at a threatening speed with arms wide open. A minor jolt of panic runs through Akechi at the prospect of the kids’ inevitable intention.

“Wait, is that…”—"Isn’t that Akechi-kun?”—“Look, it’s him—”

He power-walks around the kid to avoid the dreaded interaction last minute, but before he knows it, an unexpected wet bulk engulfs him from behind. “Um—that’s... would you...”, he stutters while trying to get out of the huge embrace.

“Thank you, my dear son, for risking your life to save us all,” the woman says with overwhelming emotion, her voice thick with its Korean accent, but even thicker with sympathy. He can’t see her face but can feel and hear that the busty woman is sobbing. Akechi stands, frozen, while her sobbing shakes him to the core. “But please tell me… Why does this keep happening? Why do they keep on killing? My husband works for the government, I worry about his life, and the lives of my children…”

Trapped in the embrace of this woman’s vast arms, the detective can do nothing but stand. It is a very unfamiliar sensation. Strong and warm, hugely muscled from long hours over decades of wrestling wet clothes at the laundromat accompanied by the smell of freshly cooked food, onions and spices—it’s almost overwhelming. It makes Akechi feel dizzy, and even though he can’t remember when he had been hugged this genuinely and earnestly the last time in his life, it feels natural to awkwardly pat the woman’s broad shoulder to calm her down. “I… um, well, I…”

“Please stop the carnage, Akechi-kun”, he hears from the demonstrators who all have gathered around him. “save us from this hell—Please bring the Thieves to justice!”

A weak smile flickers over his lips as he nods to them confidently, “I will do everything in my might to stop them”, Akechi promises and distracted by the demonstrators for a moment, he recognizes Ann Takamaki too late to ignore her, the blond girl passing by on the other side of the platform and their eyes meet briefly and intensely, like an electric shock, but the girl quickly breaks eye contact and continues her way, her conspicuous blond head of hair blending back into the crowd of people.

The sound of his phone ringing forces Akechi’s attention back to reality. He excuses himself and forces his way out of the crowd of demonstrators, then looks at the display. It’s a suppressed caller-ID. Akechi’s senses are instantly on high alert. After briefly looking around to check for any followers or potential eavesdroppers, he slides around the corner into an almost empty passageway before taking the call. “Yes?”

 _“Is there a reason why the remaining Phantom Thieves are still not taken care of?”_ That man sounds even more on edge than usual. _“Have you decided it would be an appropriate time for a vacation, or something?”_

Akechi swallows briefly, looking around hastily. “Shido-sa—”

_“Goddamnit, you moron. I told you not to call me by name.”_

“—my apologies. Well, this is all part of the plan, of course. As we discussed, I got rid of anybody who seemed suspicious.” He looks around himself again, but nobody seems to be close enough to listen in. He quickly regains his composure and returns to the call.

“But I’m sure you understand that killing seven teenagers right after the recent wave of mass mental breakdowns would only have stirred public frenzy. At this rate, there is nothing to be gained by making a public fuss, wouldn’t you agree? Therefore, it was my intention to use those remaining Thieves as scapegoats for the clean-up assignment. If they’re all going to disappear anyways, why not dupe them into doing the cleanup for us first?”

_“The Thieves are still our major concern. Getting rid of the others is our highest priority right now.”_

“I agree—however, I do suggest we’d wait for now until the storm blows over”, Akechi says confidently. “Without their leader, they anyways lack the personal will to strike back. Rest assured that they won’t be able to act that quickly.”

_“Don’t be so full of yourself. Chances are they desire to avenge their leader even more now. I’ve been in this business for long enough to know that desire for revenge changes people for the worst.”_

“I understand your concern”, Akechi says innocently. “But conveniently for us, the Thieves aren’t friends with each other, just workmates at best. They only worked with each other because of necessity, not because they particularly care about each other. With their leader gone, the integral force which held them together has disappeared. Thus, I highly suggest we wait for the dust to settle, focus on the task ahead, and I will personally take care of them immediately after the election.”

_“Fine. But keep a close eye on them. We’ve come so far, I don’t want some idiots to ruin our plans last minute.”_

“Of course.” The tension melts away a bit.

_“Besides, I must thank you for… taking out the trash as I asked you to. All things considered, you have done excellent work recently.”_

Akechi smirks just slightly. “I am glad to hear that you are pleased”, he answers, tone calm and indifferent, as if all his hard work these past days and weeks had nothing on him. “I managed to dispose of all questionable connections and I assure you, I will get rid of any potential nuisances in our way. Thus, your rise to power will be backed by clean ranks who will follow you without a doubt.”

_“Good.”_

The call is ended. Akechi puts his phone away with a faint smile. That had gone smoother than expected. Since Shido had already asked him to reveal the Thieves’ identities to him, he would have no issues letting someone else kill them off to secure his plans completely. However, it seems like he fully trusts Akechi alone with this mission. Anything regarding the Thieves is strictly Akechi’s area of operations now. That’s just how he likes it: Shido trusting him enough to give him full control of the situation. Akechi picks up his ‘A.’ engraved silver aluminum attaché case, which he now swings excitedly all the way through the station’s long pathway.

 

 

—

 

 

“Futaba… wake up, c’mon.”

One of the shutters on the windows has been closed, the other one half closed, so there is a slight illumination coming from the slits, falling into the small, messy room. In this half-light, surrounded by junk and garbage bags, a malnourished figure sits on the ground, back against the wall, curled up to a ball in deep mourning with a sleeping cat curled up next to her. A faint, rotten smell is lingering in the air.

“The school called me again this morning… Ugh, what a chaos. That guy just disappeared and doesn’t answer his God damn phone.” Sojiro puts his phone away and sighs a deep, defeated sigh. “I even called his parents up in Sumaru, but they said he hasn’t been around. I had to come up with an excuse why I’m _asking_ them in the first place.”

There’s no response. Sojiro Sakura, the old café owner, is standing restlessly in the door frame of the tiny room, scratching his neck.

In the first night, her friends had brought Futaba home. It had been a very long night. The old man had quickly noticed that something was off. They hadn’t told him anything that night. Nobody would answer his questions about what had happened to that guy, who had simply vanished. Just that student council president girl had told him to please be patient and wait. All he had seen that night had been bottomless disbelief, and the fear in their eyes. To Sojiro, it had seemed like more years than make a life had gone by that night.

They had stayed with the girl for quite a while, sat by her side until the night had turned the room completely dark. Their shadows had passed over Futaba’s motionless body, taking a little of that sad room to where they were going. Sojiro had remained. When the tears had finally stopped in the eyes of the weary little girl, the approaching morning had already been felt. And it had been in an even more painful silence, a silence of her wanting to but not being able to cry, a silence of her feeling only a deep darkness: darkness under darkness under darkness; it was all dark inside her eyes.

“You… haven’t eaten anything in days.” Sojiro tells her. He enters the room, maneuvering himself around the garbage covering most of the floor, and heavily sitting down on the small computer desk chair, facing her with a plate of steaming, freshly cooked curry in his hands, her favorite dish. Through the window shutters, some bars of light fall on his face. His forehead and the skin between his eyes are wrinkled with worry. He looks years older.

“Futaba, you… You’ve lost too much weight. I can’t… You know I gotta call the ambulance if you start doing this again.”

Futaba doesn’t flinch, face buried in her knees and hidden by the curtain of unwashed, colored hair.

“Come on now, you have to eat.”

“I can’t.” The first thing she’s said in a full week, the girl’s voice is but a weak whisper, raspy and hoarse.

“Futaba…”, Sojiro sighs, “You’ve been doing so much better lately, and… suddenly, you’re back to shutting yourself in all day and night”, Sojiro says helplessly. “I know I’m not good at talking about… you know. I’m just some old geezer… who doesn’t _get_ it. And you’re a young woman, and you and Ren—I mean… you don’t have to tell me everything that’s going on. But maybe… Maybe talking about it would help... Hell, it would help _me_ sleep better, if anything.”

No response. After a long pause, Sojiro gives a groggy sigh. He feels that he has to fill the silence, say the right thing, but talking about the girl's emotions has never been his strength.

“Life hasn’t been easy these years. First, I took you in, and then that guy… Hell, I didn’t even know if it was a good idea to take that guy in. But he turned out to be a decent boy, better than he looks, at least.” Sojiro shakes his head. “Just… what happened to that guy? Tell me, Futaba. I promise you, I won’t get mad or anything.”

“I don’t want to say”, Futaba whispers, muffled against her knees. Sojiro sighs again, propping up his forehead on his arm. He looks terribly exhausted. The past days and nights have cost him all of his remaining energy.

“You see, Futaba… if, I mean…”, he sounds dog-tired. “If something… serious happened. Then you don’t have to be afraid to tell me. Because I’m right here, and I’ll always be here to protect you, you hear me? … you know I’d do anything to make you happy, and if there would be a dangerous situation, well, let me tell ya, I have prepared accordingly for that. But… you have to tell me… what I have to do. If something happened… that… that may have to be reported to the police, you have to tell me. But I can’t…”, Sojiro wipes his sweaty, exhausted face with his open hand, “You’re obviously griefing, and I’m powerless to do anything to help you right now… This uncertainty, not knowing what’s happening, with you suffering like that… It’s a nightmare, I gotta tell you that.”

Despite not seeing her face, Sojiro hears Futaba’s voice crack just a little bit.

“Just tell me one thing, Futaba, please”, he pleads her. “Are you. Are you in danger?”

There is a long pause. Futaba says nothing. He looks at her, registers the visible tremor in her hands and body. The cat which lies curled up next to her turns its head and blinks at Sojiro slowly.

“Listen, Futaba… I’ve already once before ignored the obvious signals with Wakaba, don’t force me to repeat the same mistake again. Don’t try to keep me out of this just for my sake, so I won’t get involved. If this has anything to do with the government or Wakaba’s research, God heavens… then let me tell you that these people are ruthless and cruel, and this is nothing for you teenagers to handle alone. I don’t care if I make myself guilty or something. I don’t care if I get wrapped up in this, just… tell me what’s up.”, he all but begs her. “I can do nothing to help you if… if you don’t let me.”

“I’m sorry…” The girl lifts her heavy head to look at him. Futaba’s eyes are red and swollen, swimming with fresh tears. She doesn’t look sad anymore, just empty.

“I’m really sorry”, Futaba says. “I just want to die… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

They look at each other helplessly. She has gone back to where they were before. Seeing her again in this state, so void of happiness, robbed of any wish to live, makes his heart and everything ache inside the old man.

When nothing else comes from Futaba, he supports himself on the desk to get up, his bones feeling much older today, and puts the plate of curry on her nightstand in resignation.

“I’ll let you sleep. But please eat some of that”, he tells her. Slowly, he heads back towards the door of her room. “At least do me that favor.”

 

 

—

 

 

Two weeks have passed, and life just goes on. The city of Tokyo continues working as an organized chaos. When the lights of Shibuya crossing turn green, hundreds of people start moving across the street, young girls in short uniform skirts gather in groups, exhausted business men in suits rush to work, everyone’s eyes constantly glued to their phone screens. Sounds are constantly coming from everywhere, every element seeming to come together in a strange but coherent pattern: The voices of announcers, live and prerecorded, the bird chirping of pedestrian crossings, the screeching of brakes, horns and bells announcing the arrival of trains, voices of schoolgirls chattering away, the whistles of oshiyas, the smooth gliding of the wagons on the rails.

Makoto briefly looks down the balustrade onto the masses of people, then turns around. Her gaze is met by six gloomy faces. Gathered at their old Shibuya station hideout, they stand closer to each other than usual, speak more quietly to each other. “Well… thank you, guys… for showing up.”, Makoto breaks the silence, her tone careful, reservedly. “How has it been going for everyone?”

For a moment, nobody seems to know what to say. There’s a bashful pause as everyone acknowledges that another person appears to be missing.

“Futaba couldn’t make it out of her room yet”, Morgana says, seeming unusually gloomy. “She isn’t doing well lately, to say the least. First, she didn’t speak a single world for days, and now she refuses to eat. She holds herself responsible for what happened. I fear she might fall into old behaviours at this point, but so far, I managed to talk her out of seriously harming herself.”

“Oh no…Futaba…”, Ann sighs. Haru worriedly looks at the ground. The look of distress on her face has become a common view by now.

“This all sounds very familiar to me. Holding herself responsible for something she didn’t cause, that is.”, Makoto asks. “Is there a potential danger her distortion would return?”

“It’s hard to tell. Her heart has been changed once, already. Technically, she should be unable to give birth to a Palace again, since she’s become a Persona user.”

They all think of Futaba for a moment.

“Well, I had a feeling it might happen”, Mona tells them. “But don’t worry, guys. I’m there for her. Sojiro’s having an eye on her, too. This time, she isn’t alone with it.”

“By the way, how has it been at Shuujin academy?”, Yusuke inquires.

Makoto shifts. “There was an official announcement of the new Principal, saying that a student had died, but they didn’t go into details.”

“Yeah. I’ve heard a few students in my class chatting and discussing about a connection to the Phantom Thieves.”, Ann says, and Ryuji adds, “But it sounded more like they were jokin’ and didn’t actually believe in it.”

“Yup. After the announcement, everything was just business as usual.”

“Really? How surprising”, Yusuke says. “I remember a tragic accident that happened some years ago at Kosei. Three students had died. They announced it to all students and shut down the school for two days.”

“I don't think they ever will reveal the details, to protect the sanity of the students.”, Makoto says, biting her lip. “Or, maybe… the police want to cover it all up for some reason. I mean… The media also never showed his picture, or revealed his name.”

There is a short silence that nobody knows how to fill.

“Anyways, I’m… so glad to see you guys again”, Haru murmurs timidly. “I know we established that it’s not wise to meet up, but… I feel like talking about our feelings maybe would help all of us.”

“I agree”, Makoto says bashfully. “We’re all… Everyone of us had a strong bond with him. All of us are going through the same right now.”

“Yeah… It’s a nightmare”, Ann mumbles, her gaze on the floor, unfocused. “I can’t believe all of this… really happened. I can’t seem to lead a normal life at all. I can’t focus on anything. My head is always spinning. I… can’t even remember what I did the day before, and keep forgetting things...”

“It’s true. It has become very difficult to focus on normal activities, such as eat and sleep.”, Yusuke says slowly. “Moreover, it’s become incredibly hard to pretend everything is alright.”

“Everything since that day… feels kinda unreal to me”, Ryuji says, hands in pockets, and for once, his restlessness seems to be gone, replaced by a certain heavyweighted tranquility, his shoulders hanging in defeat. “Dunno about you guys, but I can’t believe he’s… supposed to be dead. I just don’t _believe_ it. It feels… more like he’s on a trip, ‘r something. I totally expect him to pop up around the corner anytime with a big shit-eating grin on his face.”

“I… know that feeling”, Makoto says, closing her eyes. “He’s… he’s been like a ghost, somehow. Came her out of nowhere, moved around like a shadow, blended in like he didn’t want to be seen, never talked much… Everything about him always was just so… shadow-y. Then… he disappears, just vanishes, without a trace, leaving nothing back. As if… As if it all was just a dream. Our whole Phantom Thieves phase… feels so strangely unreal.” Makoto brings her hands up, touching her head. “To be honest… Sometimes I wake up and just… doubt for a moment what all we have been doing truly happened… or that he even _existed_.”

“Yes… It feels strange,”, Haru says carefully. “Since his identity hasn’t been revealed yet, I wonder if his parents even know what happened. I feel like they really should know the truth…”

“I see your point. They deserve to know that their son isn’t the culprit”, Morgana says grimly. ”Besides, we don’t know if they could be possibly be in danger. From our enemy’s perspective, his parents would have the most reason to look into the case more closely and question the circumstances of his ‘suicide’, after all.”

“Where do his parents even live?”, Ann asks confusedly. “Somewhere in the outskirts of Tokyo, right?”

“He never mentioned it to me”, Morgana says.

“Yeah, he kinda preferred keeping things to himself.”, Ryuji shrugs.

This moment makes them realize for the first time how little they actually knew about him. Despite all these risky adventures and time spent together, they had never learned anything specific about his family, or about his life before the incident in his hometown.

“Oh God,” Makoto shakes her head. “On the one hand, I feel a strong urge to talk to an adult, any adult about what has happened. On the other hand… If they really won't reveal his identity, I really hope it won’t have to be us to bring his parents the bad news.”

“Actually, I wanted to talk with you about… well…”, Ann starts. “You know, I, uhm… it was a big shock with Shiho earlier this year, but… I’ve never lost someone close to me. Maybe some of you, who had that… who had to go through that before, losing someone from your family… maybe you could share what it was like for you. It’s just that… It’s just so confusing.”

“Yeah, it’s…”, Ryuji stutters, “I mean, you guys all have lost someone before, right? You’ve been through all that already.”

“I just lost my grandmother who died in Finland at old age, but we weren’t really close”, Ann says.

“I never knew my parents, so I am in the same position as you, Ann.”, Yusuke says.

“Everyone grieves for people differently. When my Dad died, I felt nothing at first”, Makoto tells them, blinking slowly. “It was three years ago, I was 15 at that time. It was so strange. I felt guilty for being so… stoic about it. But back then, I didn’t feel sad at all. Now that I think about it, I probably was too overwhelmed to really understand what was going on. I remember very clearly that only seeing my sister’s breakdown in the weeks after it happened made me really feel anything about it. The true grief only happened a month later, when we realized what his loss truly meant for our lives.”

“Back at school, everything was different. Many had read about the incident in the media and avoided talking about it, acting as normal. Then a girl from a class below me who I had once tutored, but who only ever spoke to once since then, came up to me and said she was sorry about what had happened. I guess it took great courage, and I remember that meant a lot to me…” Makoto touches her chin in absent thought, concluding all she wants to share about the incident.

“Uh, uhm, well…”, Ryuji seems to struggle with himself for a moment before turning to Haru, “Say, Haru… Don’t mean to be rude or anything, but you seemed to be over your Dad’s death so quickly, like. It somehow seemed like you didn’t really give a damn. It was, uh… kinda weird.”

“Ryuji…”, Ann elbows him with a scandalized look.

“You moron... That’s really disrespectful to ask”, Morgana scolds him. “Hey, we’re just talkin' 'bout our feelings, right!?”, Ryuji defends himself.

“Y-yes, uhm”, Haru replies quietly, “Well, a-after I left Destinyland, I was, uhm… not so good. But fortunately, I had all of you in the days afterwards. Mona-chan, Mako-chan, Ann-chan and all of you were really supportive and I felt very lucky to have you as my friends. I know it must have been difficult for you too, because we weren’t as close then and you didn’t know what to say or how to act. It's only natural to fear you would say or do the wrong thing in such situations. So… I’m very thankful for that.”

“You’re welcome, I guess. But uh, I mean, good for you that you got over it so quickly, man”, Ryuji continues, “I just kinda expected some break downs here n' there, but uh—nothing really happened, is all. Just wanna understand.”

“U-uhm…”, her hands are insecurely fidgeting with the seam of her jacket. “I didn't want to have you folks worry about me, so I tried to keep my feelings to myself. Also, as Mako-chan said, I-I think it takes a while to sink in… before it actually makes you realize how you truly feel about it…! But Ryuji, you… you aren’t wrong. Although it was... very painful, I was a lot better once the funeral was over. I, uhm... I haven’t been feeling sad for too long. In fact, I’ve… I’ve been worrying about that myself…”

“Don’t feel bad about yourself, Haru”, Makoto says, touching her arm. “You’ve seen horrible things in your father's Palace, and it must have been all too much for you.”

“Distorted heart or not—her Dad would have been perfectly fine handing her off to who he believed to be a rapist, bamboozled her by acting regretful, then threatened to shoot her, then wanted to employ Morgana to shoot her”, Ann enrages herself, grabbing Haru protectively by her other arm. “So leave her alone, you idiot.”

“Right. Even if everything went without a hitch, it would have been a long while before things between them would have been mended properly”, Morgana says bitterly.

“So, I guess you considered your Dad lost way before he fell into the coma… or something?”, Ryuji says.

“Let’s all conclude that people grieve differently. I’m sure you’ll make inner amends with your Dad when the time has come, Haru.”, Makoto says, attempting to calm down the tense atmosphere.

“W-well, to be honest”, Haru chirps, “T-there is something more to it. It's hard to put it into words, but... I feel like something inside me prohibits me from grieving.” She clenches her fist, struggling with finding the right words to let her heart speak. “W-we’ve all been struggling with denial and fear, but it feels wrong to just… accept this situation and continue with our daily lives. I really feel like we have to do something… before it might be too late. It makes me so angry when I watch the news report about those mass mental breakdowns…”

“I couldn’t agree more. It feels terrible to stay locked in, unable to go outside for days, impotent to strike back or even defend ourselves”, Yusuke says. “I can’t even begin to fathom how Futaba endured this for such a long period of time.”

“I saw Akechi at the metro station today”, Ann murmurs.

“What did he do?”, Makoto asks bewilderedly.

“He was… just passing by. He looked as pleased with himself as always.”

“Because he doesn’t suspect that we'll eff’ him over.”, Ryuji mutters from beneath clenched teeth. “That bastard won’t know what hit him.”

“Which brings me to the actual reason I called all of you here for this meeting.”, Makoto says, her tone grown more serious. “We’ve reached a point where we have to decide on our next steps. You’ve all heard what’s been going on. They continue to frame us for the mental shutdowns, which has made things extremely dangerous for us.”

“Anyways, we have two options”, Morgana says firmly. “Thanks to Futaba bugging Akechi’s phone, we now know our enemy. Either we go against him, steal our very last treasure, and stop the mass mental shutdowns and breakdowns. That’s our first option. Here’s the alternative: We disband and stop acting as Phantom Thieves. We return to our normal lives, giving our enemy a clear sign that we surrender and are no longer acting against him.”

“I know… that this… isn’t an easy decision”, Makoto follows suit carefully. “If some of you would prefer to think it over, then I fully understand this. From here on, it’s unknown seas for us. Things aren’t like they used to be. Our enemy is at a strong advantage now. If you value your safety, your lives, and those of your family, then we will do anything to keep you out of this. No one… should be forced to continue our actions as Thieves.”

A strange atmosphere falls over the teenagers after these words. Nobody fills the moment of silence, everybody avoiding eye contact with each other while each of them is waiting for the first one to speak up. It’s no wonder Ryuji had asked Haru about her questionable apathy before; because by now, every single one of them has realized, without a word spoken, that there is always the possibility of someone among them betraying the others; selling out his teammates to save his own life in this perilous deadlock situation. Not that any of them suspected the others of being dishonest, not after all they had been though, not after the strong bonds of friendship that had developed between some of them—however, the dark, violent shock of Akechi’s betrayal and the uncertainty of just what truly had happened to their friend Ren still lingered over them.

Morgana, for whom the choice is clear, is awaiting the other’s decision expectantly. Thinking back to their beginnings, he remembers how Lady Ann had been ready to kill Kamoshida as revenge for her friend Shiho and had spared him, only so he could confess his crimes and suffer in prison. She would still see it till the end, Morgana was sure of it. Ryuji, Futaba and Yusuke had had the strongest dependency on Ren out of all of them, and they wouldn’t be willing to continue their lives with no answers about his disappearance, so he expects them to fight back, too.

However, Haru and Makoto still could have a good future without the Phantom Thieves, and with Makoto's goal for a respectable career after high school, she'd have to urgently focus on her university entry exams soon or she would otherwise waste her future. Makoto had already reluctantly committed to at least helping them construct a plan, also was her sister in potential danger. That leaves Haru. Morgana had no clue what’s currently going on inside her since she mostly keeps her feelings to herself. The young Okumura heir in particular had the most reason to leave the Phantom Thieves or to sell them out to get out of this safely after already losing her father and witnessing one failure of the group after another. Practically owning her father’s company now, she could lead a new, independent life now—or would she rather just to go back and get smacked around by her fiancée? No… Morgana was sure she wouldn’t.

After some long seconds, Ryuji finally grunts infuriated.

“What kind of question is that? Of course we’ll fight back”, he says grimly. “As fo' me, I ain’t gonna watch this shit show a single day longer!”

“Do we all agree on this?”, Makoto says, glancing around the group, and when no one has objections, she rubs her fist eagerly, and Mona purrs contently. “Alright, Phantom Thieves, welcome back on board. In that case, we need to come up with a plan.”

“We still have the recording of Akechi’s phone call. It’s basically a confession, isn’t it?”, Haru suggests. “Yeah, why can’t we just go to the police with it?”, Ann says.

“Yeah, that would totally not backfire”, Ryuji says. “Did you miss that several times we established that at least some of the police is part of the conspiracy too?”

“Don’t forget that with Akechi putting all the blame on us, we’re public enemy number one right now”, Morgana says. “The police is backing him. Besides, you can't get someone arrested on an illegally recorded voice clip alone, nevermind the fact that those are easily edited.”

“What about your sister?”, Yusuke asks Makoto.

“Yeah, what if we show the recording to Sae? She’s an adult, and she was head of the case, so at least people would listen to her, right?”, Ann says.

“I don’t think so. All she can do is work with the police, after all”, Morgana says. “But of course, it would be a great help if we had Sae as an information broker on our side. Makoto, did you get anything out of her?”

Makoto shakes her head. “We’ve barely talked lately. I tried to tell her everything the day after our ruse. She seemed somewhat… disappointed, or even resignating about the case. But as soon as I confessed that I had been part of the Phantom Thieves, we had a fight...” Makoto pauses. “Then, she snapped and smacked me. After that, we haven’t been talking to each other.”

“Ugh. That sucks ass, man.”, Ryuji says.

“How horrible”, Haru whimpers. “It must have all been too much for her, too.”

“Well, we… haven’t been able to talk after that. I hear her leave early morning and hear her come back home late in the night.”, Makoto says, knitting her eyebrows. “So basically… Everything is as usual, minus our daily 5-minute family reunions. What’s more, as far as I know, she’s been pulled out of the case.”

“Sure Sae would know more about how legal corruption works than we ever could, but we already failed once to get her on our side”, Morgana says. “Plus, I think we can all agree that there is no use in going against Akechi. We know that he reports to someone else. As far as we can tell, he’s just a single pawn in a whole bigger plan. Someone is controlling him, and I bet my paws and tail that it’s that Shido guy he mentioned on the phone.” Everyone nods. “Whatever we’ll encounter in that man’s Palace, it has to be something very powerful. On top of that, we have Akechi acting against us now—which means he could confront us anytime within in the Palace.”

“We also haven’t been able to figure the keywords out so far”, Makoto sighs. “It’s truly… a mess.”

“Why can’t we just, um,”, Ann gesticulates, “You know, try tying Goro up and just make him talk? Maybe he would spill the beans.”

“I believe kidnapping Akechi would be a silly move”, Yusuke says. “If we confront him directly, we might risk getting killed right away. The reason why we had to split up, lie low and make it seem like we aren't doing anything while Ren was being interrogated was because we have no clue who is watching us or where we’re being watched from, or what Akechi is hiding.”

“All we know from that phone call of Akechi and that Shido guy is that we aren't going to be targeted for some time”, Makoto says. “But if we jump him early, even if he doesn't fight back, and even if he gives us the info we need, which he probably won’t—”

“Well, we could just torture the information outta him”, Ryuji grimaces. “I mean, wouldn’t be totally the first illegal thing we ever did, right?”

“But how in the world would we have any reassurance that no one would find out?”, Morgana throws in. “Let's sweeten the deal even further, say he tells us exactly what the keyword are and where that man’s Palace is—how’s this even _close_ to being a good idea if the enemy knows we’re coming? Including the Palace owner, who would be expecting us from the very beginning, making his Palace hard to penetrate even _before_ we have a route to the treasure? That being said, in the worst case we should calculate the risk of a possible cognitive Akechi guarding the treasure, as well. And if that one has Persona powers, we won’t stand a chance in our current condition.”

“Then why not, you know…”, Ryuji says, “get rid of Akechi directly before we break into the Palace?”

There is a short silence when all heads turn towards him, waiting for Ryuji to explain himself.

“What do you mean?”, Yusuke says confusedly.

“No Akechi – no cognition, right?”

“Are you implying we murder Akechi?”, Makoto whispers bewilderedly.

“I mean, if he’s planning on killing us for real, it’s not like we totally have a choice, right!?”, Ryuji says defensively, suddenly feeling somewhat dumb after seeing their baffled reactions.

“We’re not acting against Akechi, Ryuji”, Mona shoots him a glance. “Try to keep your emotions at bay.”

“And how can I do that? I hated that fake bastard from the start!”, Ryuji growls, moving around agitatedly. “N' if yo' ask me, i’d done something 'bout his ass from the start! Holy shit. All I wanted to get outta this phantom thief business was an easy life, some love from the ladies, some respect from the bros. I’ve been riskin' my fuckin' life every day for an entire year o' effin’ hard work trying to shit dem evil fuckers in the face n' make the world a better place, n' got nuthin’ in return… n' now look at that smug backpfeifengesicht, lyin’ to us for a whole month, lyin’ to their motherfuckin' faces every day like it’s nothin’, sellin' out my best fuckin' homie without a flinch, n' what the fuck does dude get?” Ryuji wildly gesticulates to the windows, overlooking Shibuya crossing. “His God damn baby face, on a huge ass screen all over Shibuya, all over the media, like he’s some goddamn—comic book pimp o' _justice_! I’m just so tired of seein' his God damn face all over effin’ Tokyo—”

“Please lower your voice, Ryuji.”, Makoto whispers in distress, eyes shut as if trying to fade out Ryuji from her life. “People are looking our way.”

“Ryuji… Your anger is understandable, but at this point, there is nothing we can do against Akechi”, Morgana says. “With him being a Persona user, it’s impossible for him to have a Palace or a shadow whose heart could be changed. In the real world, he has the whole police force backing him up, as Makoto has seen in the Casino. Plus, he may not have come after us so far, but it’s absolutely possible that he revealed our identities to the police and his accomplices. The longer he would be unreachable for that Shido guy, the more that man might assume something went wrong and would just kill all of us in real life.”

“If only we could try gaining more info about what happened to Ren through the police”, Haru says. “Futaba surely could use her skills to hack the police databases, get intel on direct employees in that building.”

“Yes, but… unfortunately, I am pretty sure Futaba has left the team for now”, Morgana says dejectedly.

“If only he was here”, Ann says quietly, shaking her head. “He’d know what to do.”

“I wish we could get Akechi-kun to join our side”, Haru says timidly. “Without Joker’s wild card skills, we… we’re much weaker, aren’t we?”

“That is true”, Yusuke says. “Unfortunately, we have no clue what’s going on inside his head.”

“To sum it up, we have five problems”, Morgana says. “That politician’s Palace might be too strong for us. Second, we might have to deal with Akechi within the Palace. Third, our deadline is election night, which means we have a tough time limit. Four, our navigator left the team. To make things even worse, nobody believes in the justice of the Phantom Thieves anymore. This is the status quo, and we need to accept that.”

“If that politician really is behind the mental shutdowns as we expect, he may be our toughest enemy so far. It’s going to be rough, and we absolutely must not encounter Akechi in there, so we have to stay on guard. Needless to say, this time, everything has to work out without a single mistake.”

“There are just two weeks left for the entire Palace.”, Makoto says. “We need to get started as soon as possible. Let’s continue our research about this man so we can figure out the keywords quickly. We’ll meet tomorrow right after school in front of the Diet Building.”

“Hell, yeah”, Ryuji whispers and cracks his knuckles. “I’ve never felt readier for anything. I’m gonna bring that bastard down.”

“Just one last thing before we depart“, Morgana says. “As long as we don’t know what really happened to Ren… we have to fill in for him. We need to appoint a new leader.”

Without hesitation, everyone looks at the same person.

“I vote for Makoto”, Ann winks at her encouragingly.

“Me?”, she sputters.

“Of course”, Haru chirps. “You’ve always been our second-in-command, Mako-chan.”

“Uh? W-well…” Makoto says, the weight on her shoulders suddenly much heavier. “If you insist…”

“It’s a unanimous decision, then”, Morgana says. “Alright, you guys. A lot will change from here on. The Phantom Thieves are still alive, and we’ll fight back. Give it all you got!”

“Yeah”, Ann nods determinedly. “We can do it!”

“It’s decided, then.” Makoto says, nodding. “W-we’ll fight back.”

 

 

—

 

 

“Sae-san, would you kindly take a picture of me?”

31-year old prosecutor Sae Niijima stares back blankly, her unpolluted colleague’s boyish charms wasted on her. “No.”

“Ah, Sae-san, please”, Akechi insists with a smile, persistently handing her his phone. “It’s for the fans. I promise I’ll pay your order next time if you indulge me just this once.”

“There is no need for that.” Sae unwillingly takes the phone and unceremoniously takes a picture of him. Akechi takes back the phone and inspects the result. “Thank you, it turned out well”, he tells her, posts the image on his blog then returns to inspecting his untouched cake. “Three layers of different creme—each layer slathered in rich chocolate buttercream, enrobed in hot fudge, coated with chocolate shavings, sprinkled with mini chocolate chips. The name ‘death by chocolate’ is well deserved, I suppose.”

“Treating yourself to sweets? Isn’t it too soon for celebrations? There’s been another disastrous shutdown just yesterday, you know. Two people died.”

“Well, you aren’t wrong about that. However, this sinful menu item is only available today for the Italian weeks special, making it that much more desirable. Besides, using food is not a bad way to stay motivated, wouldn’t you agree?”, Akechi smiles at her brightly. “Would you by any chance want to have a go? I can ask for another fork, in that case—”

“Keep it”, Sae says with open utter disinterest.

“Hm. That’s a shame”, Akechi says, wailing in thought for moment. “Oh, by the by, I received something on the way here that might cheer you up. I don’t really need it, so I figured I’d give it to you.” Akechi pulls the object from his attaché case. It’s a wellness voucher and a face beautifier. Sae takes them, stares at the face beautifier, then glances up at him with a dangerous glint in her eyes. Akechi’s bond with the Judgement Arcana shatters just a bit. It seems Sae-san doesn’t like the gift very much.

“Hello, Akechi-kun!”, a bunch of giggling girls walk by their table, waving and blushing at them, but Akechi ignores them, too busy enjoying his chocolate. Arms crossed, fingers of her hand impatiently tipping against her upper arm, Sae’s annoyed gaze follows them, then settles back on the detective. “Mh, the warm chocolate is so good... It melts in my mouth… permeating through my body.”

“So how is it going with the mass mental breakdown case?”, Sae asks coldly.

Akechi swallows down his tripe level chocolate and wipes a bit of cream from his mouth. “At the moment, the official state of investigation is quite stagnating. We have no trace of a culprit, let alone the rest of the Phantom Thieves. That being said, it’s mainly filling out reports about the incidents on November 20th and trying to figure out the next steps for now.” He waves it off with a modest smile. “You know: The boring work.”

Instead of answering, Sae takes a cautious sip from her coffee. It seems like she isn’t in the mood for much talking today.

“Well then, let’s get right to the point, shall we?”, Akechi asks discreetly, leaning forward and lowering his gentle voice just a tad. “How’s Makoto doing?”

Sae’s shoulders tense. She grips and releases the handle of her coffee mug several times while remembering the fight they had when Makoto confronted her about the case. Sae had snapped, and probably went too hard on her. Truth be told, she didn’t have any desire to return back to their apartment before she’d figure out what to do about Makoto. Makoto herself hasn’t tried to apologize or attempted to start any conversation ever since, and Sae doesn’t want to give in first either. At this rate, she even preferred staying at a hotel downtown, both for her own personal space and Makoto’s safety from her seething anger. But her personal life is really none of Akechi’s business, so she just sighs and closes her tired eyes. ”We had a disagreement, and we haven’t been talking much lately.” Sae shakes her head bitterly. “I still can’t believe that she was truly acting alongside this dangerous group all this time. I just don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“You abstained from mentioning her name in the interrogation report”, Akechi points out.

“So have you.” They stare in each other’s eyes.

“Well then, it seems we are partners in crime in this alleged coverup affair.” Akechi smiles at her. “You lied in the report, haven’t you? He did reveal her as an accomplice, hasn’t he?”, Akechi reasons. Sae shakes her head. “He did imply it was you who sold him out. When I confronted him with the identities of his confidants during the interrogation, he didn’t deny it. Whilst telling his story, he phrased it wisely instead, such as mentioning the student council president got ‘involved’. When I proposed a deal to him, promising he would get the soft treatment if he would sell out his team mates… he still refused to make an official statement.”

“Ah, I see… I’ve seen that on TV in crime shows before.” Akechi’s eyes gleam excitedly while he changes his seating position attentively. “As a prosecutor, you may have all the hunches you want—unless the interrogated person specifically claims that those are his associates by name, it’s worth nothing. How exciting.“

In moments like these, Sae receives a bitter reminder that this kid in front of her is nothing but a high school student pampered by society for his unnatural talents who, strictly speaking, follows her around as a part of extracurriculars. That is just her cognition of him: A well-meaning, but uncute and privileged brat. Sometimes she has to remind herself why she even wastes time talking to him.

“The Phantom Thieves… It seems like at the moment, it’s just the two of us knowing their identities.”, Akechi says, taking his thinking pose, touching his chin thoughtfully. “Of course, since one of them coincidentally is a close family member of yours, an important decision now lies in your hands. From a moral point of view, this situation obviously isn't easy—no one wants to get a loved family member in trouble. Maybe you’re even considering taking the blame yourself now. Whether required to or not, calling the police on a family member can be heartbreaking, if not potentially dangerous. But, as you know, there are times when you might _have_ to take legal action.”

“What are you implying?” Sae leans back in her chair and scoffs dismissively. “That’s beyond ridiculous. I know that she isn’t behind all these killings.”

“Perhaps you are right. The killings might not have been her intention. Little is known about the circumstances of a change of heart—even though I have been acting alongside them as an undercover agent, I unfortunately only caught a basic glimpse of their methods and the whole process of a change of heart. This is just a theory of mine, but you know—” Akechi picks the cherry sitting on top of his cake. ”The killings could have been casualties on the way…”

“Casualties?”, Sae repeats, narrowing her eyes.

“An unforeseen result of some teenagers playing with fire. Nothing more…”, he pops the cherry into his mouth, “nothing less.”

“So this is your suggestion? You’re honestly proposing I’d report her?”

“It’s but my personal opinion, of course. After all, this isn’t merely a correctional issue we’re talking about. As for your rebellious sister—please don’t think of me as presumptuous, of course I am in no place to judge what might be the best for her.” Akechi puts down his fork and folds his hands. “But I'd like to think that if I were in a similar position, I would strongly encourage that person to turn themselves in. I'd also like to think that if the person ignored my advice, that I would do the right thing and report them, along with the others.”

Sae grumpily stares at the cup of coffee sitting on the table in front of her.

“Of course, reporting her would cast a bad light on your abilities as a capable prosecutor, as well”, Akechi mentions, “the true criminals were right in front of you the whole time—they even shared the same apartment…” He makes a thoughtful sound. “But, if you’d be willing to stand ready for the consequences, prove strength and be the prosecutor who brought the culprits to justice, your career may eventually recover from that. All what people desire right now is a clear cut, after all. They just want the killings to end, they won’t care about the details.”

Sae stares at him, unconvinced, but still listening gloomily.

“When’s your sister’s birthday?”, Akechi asks.

“She turned 18 in April”, Sae says bitterly.

“Most members of the group are still below the age of majority, so if anything, they will get into juvenile for several months. It’s just the Okumura girl and Makoto who have already turned 18—but at least your sister can’t be convicted for the first two changes of hearts. Even though capital offences committed by minors are punishable by death sentence, I strongly believe that thanks to Makoto’s clean record, negligent tort and respectable achievements at school, this option is outside the range of possibilities…”

“Oh God…”, Sae reaches for her forehead, “Don't even...”

“With a good criminal defense attorney, you might be able to clear both her and your name. She’s a smart girl, so she will still make it through entrance exams upon return and probably could get into a fairly admirable university outside of Japan.”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?”, Sae’s features are tense as she leans forward, lowering her voice. “Both you and I know that the penal system will change her forever, and not for the better.”

“Experiencing accountability and consequences may help her become a better person”, Akechi suggests. “As you might be aware, our abstract greater society is owed a debt of law-abiding good conduct.”

“No. The ruinous influence of prison will scar her worse than any 'positive' influence she might receive. Besides, I’m having my own suspicions about the police”, Sae says, shielding her eyes in exhaustion. “No, I… I can’t let that… I can’t do that to her.”

“So you prefer covering it all up?”, Akechi says. “You intend to sober her up, then rehearse a story in case someone would, for some reason, get suspicious of her? Well, if my opinion matters in this regard, I assume it wouldn’t be done with merely a well-intentioned spanking. However, that way, you can protect your sister and her friends, while your name will stay clean.”

Tapping her long, painted fingernails against her cup, Sae petulantly stares at a point behind him. Akechi tries to read her. Given enough manipulation, would she turn against Makoto, letting herself be debauched by the urge to gather the laurels for winning the case she had invested her heart and soul into? He had thought so. He remembers her Shadow self. Given that her heart is still distorted, probably, yes. Since the NavApp still is able to locate her Palace, her heart doesn’t seem to be changed. But now that he watches her, she seems much less distorted than before. For a long time now, he had given her information that only he would know to set her on the right track. Maybe he just needs to push her a bit more into the right direction, fuel her distortion a bit more.

“But I’m surprised, Sae-san.”, he tells her reluctantly. “As there is also the option of bringing the Thieves to justice and giving the case a clear closure. It is the most notorious case of the century, after all. Whoever solves it will surely be highly rewarded.”

“I intend on trusting my instincts in this matter”, Sae says. “I know her. I know for certain it’s not her doing the killings.”

“I see. It’s a gamble with high risk, but high return, thought through, as expected of you. However, in case you lose this bet… you risk that the mental shutdowns may continue. Plus, I’m certain I don’t have to remind you of the citizen’s legal obligations—from the day you submit the final report, you might be charged with both conspiracy _and_ the underlying crime, which would double your criminal liability.”

There is a small pause. Sae looks at him in sheer disbelief. “Akechi… What… are you implying?” She scoffs. “Are you trying to put me under pressure?”

“Ahaha, of course not.”, Akechi chuckles briefly while waving his hand. “I was only joking, of course. I’m no fool. We both know that the true culprit can’t be that group of teenagers.” He opens his attaché case and pulls out his notes about the case, showing Sae a visualized link analysis diagram of possible connections, centered around Ren Amamiya. “The question that remains is: Who has Ren Amamiya been trying to protect? Who were his true confidants? As we know by know, among several others, he had connections to the Yakuza, to a convicted politician known to be formerly involved in political scandals, a doctor suspected of continued illicit pharmaceutical crime, an illegal arms dealer and several others. And that’s just the evidence I was able to collect from my investigations. It might be possible that he managed to build up a whole network of organized crime we still don’t know about. Given how cautious and skillfully all his operations were performed, I wouldn’t be surprised if he represented the only loose connection to this large network who were not connected to each other, and the other Thieves weren’t involved with this supporting network at all. A clever move—unfortunately for us, this means that with his death, all leads end here.”

Sae eyes the chart silently, hopefully taking the bait.

“Rest assured, Sae-san”, he tells her while gathering his notes again. “I’m on your side. If this is your decision, Makoto won’t be charged with anything.”

“I’ll take your word on that.” Not entirely convinced, Sae sighs silently. She shakes her head. “But with whoever it is running amok now with those ‘powers’—I just worry about her safety.”

“We will get her out her this mess, and most importantly, we will catch the true culprit who really is behind the mass mental shutdowns and bring them to justice. Until then, I’ll keep our secret safe, Sae-san. That is…”, he winks innocently at her, “if you agree to accompanying me to that newly opened Yakiniku grill restaurant sometime.”

Sae has a sarcastic remark about this continued ridiculous blackmailing sitting on the tip of her tongue when he already puts on his uniform coat and gathers his belongings. “Well then, I must return to work. Thank you for your time. As always, I do enjoy our conversations a lot, Sae-san.”, he says as he stands. “And thanks for the meal—you should give the chocolate a try.” Akechi leaves.

Prosecutor Niijima sighs in distress, pulls up her laptop and focuses again on her slave job, precisely her report about the case of a scammer drug dealer who sold his customers actual grass instead of weed for ￥10,000 a quart. With a disapproving sigh, Sae Niijima glances at the half eaten ‘death by chocolate’ tarte she had paid for and which the junior detective has left her alone with. What an ungrateful brat he was.

 

 

—

 

 

The world is a blur for a second and in the next, the distortions of the Metaverse fade back into grey reality as the Thieves make it back: Stopped abrupty mid-run while escaping the Palace last minute, some of them tumble and fall to the ground, some of them even staying there on all fours, breathing frantically, trying to catch their breath.

“I-is everyone alright!?”, Makoto near screams in panic, holding onto some construction site barricade, relieved when actual words escape her lips instead of squeaks. “Yeah…”, Ann breathes, “Thoouuugh I kinda suspect I’ll not be able to walk tomorrow…”

For a few moments it’s just their heavy breathing until most of them are up on their feet again.

“That was too close... weeew…”, Ryuji grumbles.

“We were almost killed while being in that rat form.”, Yusuke says.

“Yeah, thaaat… waaas… devastating”, Morgana howls. “That final attack… I thought my whiskers would be burned for life…”

“I honestly thought that was the end in that moment.”

“I—I’m sorry, you guys”, Makoto says, gesticulating wildly. “I shouldn’t have—”, she clasps a hand in front of her mouth, trying to calm herself down. “I… shouldn’t have pressed on, after that safe room—it seems I was too eager to finish the Palace as fast as possible... I… I pushed you all too far.” She stares at the ground, depressed.

“Things are looking even worse than expected”, Morgana says, ignoring Makoto’s attempted apology. “We ended up completely outnumbered. We have to come up with a better plan next time. Plus, we don’t know why Makoto isn’t able to call Johanna anymore.”

She feels all gazes on her. Makoto bites her lip at the mention. Embarrassed, she swipes away the sweat from her face.

“Makoto, what was wrong with your Persona?”, Haru asks her.

“To be fully honest with you… I have no clue”, Makoto says, baffeled. “I tried to summon her as always. But it was like… Johanna wouldn’t listen to me. Like… she was…gone.”

“It might be a temporary issue, maybe a side-effect of the rattle mechanic. But you guys, let’s move away from the Diet Building for now, before we raise any suspicion.”, Morgana steps in in her stead. “Let’s meet up at Leblanc tonight. Everyone, try to think of a strategy how to fill in for Joker, Oracle and Queen for now. We don’t have any more time to waste.”

After helping her get up on her feet again, Haru and Makoto stay back a little longer.

“Don’t blame yourself, Mako-chan”, Haru tells her before they disband, sounding concerned. “We can still do it!”

“R-right.”, Makoto says flustered.

Makoto is silent as she follows the others on their way to the station, a familiar darkness creeping up in her heart.

 

 

—

 

 

Later that night, after soaking in the bathtub trying to calm herself down from another particularly disastrous afternoon spent in the Palace, Makoto is in her cozy bathrobe, standing at her room’s window. Looking outside into the heavy rain over Tokyo, she leans her forehead against the cool glass, trying to calm the worries, the anxiety and stress inside her. After today’s infiltration, an old, familiar feeling has again started to grow inside her: Being useless. It had taken them longer to find the keywords, which had cost them valuable days. Then, today was catastrophic. Not only had she risked all their lives with her aggressive approach. Morgana even had to jump in to give the only logical order for retreat. But what was more, she was unable to properly assist in battle with this sudden inability of calling her Persona, rendering her completely useless in battle for anything other than giving orders or using items, whilst weighting and slowing down the rest of the group. What a great, reliable leader she was.

Makoto sighs. Recalling all her mistakes, Makoto finds herself terribly hypocritical in her current leadership position, just like back when she just got herself into danger with Kaneshiro to prove her worth, while risking the lives of the others instead. Looking back, she didn’t single handedly come up with their past plans, either. If anything, Futaba would get most credit for everything the Thieves had achieved so far since she had always been the one to make sure everything worked as everyone expected from her. Without Futaba, they wouldn’t even have been able to do half of the things they had accomplished. Wouldn’t they have managed without Makoto so far? Makoto feels like Ryuji, Futaba and Yusuke have done more for the team than she herself ever had. Then why did they even appoint her as the leader? Wasn’t she better off just following orders, doing what she was told to do by others, like she had done for so long now?

Makoto picks up her math book again, but for once, even the soothing algorithms fail to distract her from these wailing self-doubts. Studying for her upcoming university entrance exams isn’t even close to being an option right now. When the boredom and the feeling of uncertainty become unbearable, she puts the book away. These days of worry have exhausted her strength and nagged on her concentration. She wishes she could feel something… anything, anything other than this resignation, this exhaustion. The anger in her veins is gone and has made place for paralyzing numbness in her limbs. She feels tired to the bone. She  doesn’t want to think about the unthinkable anymore. She hopes for nothing more than for her phone to ring with an incoming message from one, particular person. She waits while listening to the rain, but nothing happens—her phone remains silent.

With a sudden burst of self hatred, Makoto decides that this state is unacceptable. She has to fight back against this darkness inside her. She thinks back to her awakening. She has been able to overcome this darkness once already. This feeling of being powerless… She had sworn to never go back to her old self again. She cannot afford it. It is her responsibility to take charge of the situation, isn’t it?

She hasn’t talked to Sae since their fight and Makoto feels anxious of her reaction. Although she has avoided it until now, she has to talk to Sae when she comes home tonight and ask her for help. This time, she’s going to listen to her, no matter what. Makoto unlocks the door, grabs the vacuum cleaner to clean their apartment for the third time this week because Sae loves it clean and tidy. Then she cooks a quick meal for Sae as an apology. They will discuss this over food instead of in martial arts fighting position. Hopefully, this will conciliate her. When she’s done, Makoto checks the clock in the living room. Just after eight. As happened so many times, Sae is working into the middle of the night again or is out with a coworker, and Makoto can again, do nothing but wait. The cookings are waiting on the stove.

At nine P.M., Sae doesn’t answer her phone. At first, Makoto considers leaving her a voicemail, then decides against it. If she can’t make her listen, she’ll just write it down. Makoto swiftly sits on her desk, grabs a pen from her panda pencil case and starts writing the letter, writing the whole truth, black on white, without leaving out anything. When she’s done, she puts the letter in a nice envelope and closes it, addressing it to her sister. Sae’s going to read it. She won’t have any other choice.

Makoto stands up and leaves her room with the letter in her hand. Wandering through the empty, dark apartment which suddenly seems way too large with all its empty rooms and unused furniture, she stops at Sae’s bedroom door which is slightly open. She peeks inside, suddenly realizing that she hasn’t been in her sister’s room for God knows how long. They have drifted apart so much it hurts to realize these things. A sudden urge makes her slip through the door on a whim.

The room lies in classy, professional dull light before her. It’s chilly in here. It seems Sae tries to save heating costs even in winter. With its cold, unapproachable dark grey interior with no decorations of any sort, everything tidy and on its place, it has some sort of… intimidating aura. Makoto doesn’t even dare to switch the lights on.

She shyly looks around. These days, the vast double bed is probably the only piece of furniture Sae uses in her room, the Public Procurement Law books in the built-in wood shelves slightly dusty. She comes home late, eats her cooking or sometimes some takeout noodles, sleeps, gets up early. Makoto feels strangely watched as she tippy toes inside the room over the plush, charcoal dark grey covered floor, feeling as if she isn’t allowed to be here. True enough, Sae wouldn’t like her snooping around and would most likely be angry to find her inside her room, but the loneliness and some childish need to get closer to her sister somehow keeps Makoto from leaving after she puts the letter on her nightstand.

Makoto sits down on the edge of the neatly made bed and timidly touches the high-quality bed sheets. There is Sae’s characteristic smell of her expensive trademark perfume, heavy and rich enough to be mistaken for a man’s. Makoto’s eyes wander to the nightstand. She reluctantly looks into the top drawer. There are sleeping pills and various expensive hand- and body creams. “Oh, sis.”, Makoto almost has to chuckle in shock when she finds a vibrator in the middle drawer. She quickly closes it and spends a moment to silently apologize to Sae for invading her privacy, but then her curiosity takes over. She randomly takes one of her books on the nightstand. The first one is a book about relaxation techniques which looks oddly untouched. The second is a guide about recommended hot springs in Japan. Out falls an old photo, presumably used as a bookmark. Makoto bends down to pick it up from the grey carpet.

It’s a photograph of their father with the young Niijima sisters. They’re both wearing white stockings and the same patterned dress. Although she had been just a child, Makoto distantly remembers that dress and has to smile at the memory. Their now deceased father holds them in his arms, one girl on each arm, looking proud.

Makoto had always looked up to her sister, had copied a lot of things from her. Their father had always praised Sae for her achievements in kickboxing, inspiring Makoto to start aikido. Sae’s grades at school were outstanding, so Makoto tried to study hard, as well. Sae knew how to dress herself like a classy woman, so Makoto had tried to do so as well. Sae skips breakfast to reduce her calorie intake, so Makoto did it, too. However, there had always been some areas where Makoto just seemed to always be inferior to her sister. Sae had always had cool friends like good-looking smart medical students and lots of admirers in school who respected her for how strong and independent she was and for how long and beautiful her hair was. She also had been student council president, but nobody had ever thought of her as some soulless tool. She even passed the bar exam straight out of high school. Makoto can’t help but notice that even as a young teenager, Sae had looked serious and very mature while Makoto looks incredibly clumsy in comparison, chocolate on her face—she always ended up eating too much of it—her dress and collar wrinkled. Sae had always been the more responsible, thinner and more gorgeous looking one of them.

But the burst of jealousy quickly fades when she finds another picture underneath. She turns it around in her hand. This one seems to be some kind of Halloween party, Sae dressed as a witch with a black witch hat, black make-up and a broom, her outfit almost comically resembling a considerably smaller Shadow Sae’s; Makoto dressed as a strawberry, looking confused. Makoto can’t help but laugh behind her hand.

There’s another one which seems a whole lot older than the others, the colors pale, folded at the corner. It’s Sae as a kid and Makoto as a newborn baby on her lap, Sae hugging her from behind, Makoto chewing on her tiny fingers in her mouth. Makoto stares at is with a weak smile for a long time, barely noticing how pain throbs in her heart, spreading through her body like poison, and silent tears are running down her face until her view and the beautiful memories blur and then she can’t stop the tears from falling. She knows right then that nothing will ever be like back then again. They will never be able to go back to the happy times… back to those times…

“Dad…”

Makoto curls up in Sae’s bed. Her heart aches like an open wound while she lies there and waits. She feels terribly lonely, like she hasn’t in a long time. Like… before Ren has showed up in her life.

Makoto opens her chat history with Ren. Last time they spent time alone together, it all ended with her slapping Eiko and later on Makoto disburdening her heart to him at Crossroads. She had been so confused and lost at the start of the semester, but Ren had helped her find herself. She knows it now: Her dream is to become a police commissioner and continue her father's legacy. She has been reluctant to tell anyone about her decision to join the police yet—it’s a choice that usually would get you alienated from your friend group, after all. They’d all just think of her as daddy’s girl all over again. But… she wanted nothing more than to tell him about her dream. She knew he would understand, just as she understood him. He would understand her desire to fix the injustices from the inside, since he himself had been mistreated by the police. Makoto lets the phone fall next to her and curls up to a tiny ball in the vast bed.

With growing awareness, Makoto realizes that she misses Ren a lot. She wants to be close to him so bad now. She closes her eyes and thinks of him. He would hold her in his arms now, soothingly stroking her cheek, brushing the hair from her face with his skillful hands. Smile his mysterious smile. Before they started their last mission together, and before he would be in custody, Ren had briefly pulled her aside, told her to take command of the group during his absence. She had responsibility of the others now. But she couldn’t, this new, unfamiliar sort of weakness was paralyzing her, robbing her of all anger and replacing it with emptiness. Without him, all her dreams were worth nothing. Nothing in the future to look forward to. It was right then in this moment that Makoto realizes for the first time that she had fallen in love with Ren.

For the hundredth time this week she lets her last moment with Ren replay in her head, the moment they parted ways after defeating Shadow Sae. She will never forget the reassuring look on his face. It had been the last time she had seen him. She remembers how her heart had lingered, and now in retrospect, she knows that even back then, she already had had a bad feeling about this. Something inside her had screamed, had pleaded for him to stay. She didn’t want to let him go. Oh, if only she hadn’t let him, if only she had taken responsibility right then, if only she hadn’t…

“No… he’s alive”, she whispers, tears dripping from her chin into the sheets. “He… can’t be… you CAN’T JUST DISAPPEAR LIKE THAT, NOT AGAIN”, her voice suddenly rises to a scream as Makoto tears the pillow apart with all her strength, then proceeds with destroying everything around her; rips pages out of books and stomps on them, kicks in the mirrors, throws the nightstand against the wall whilst screaming out her rage at the top of her lungs, feathers and pictures flowing and scattering as she tears apart anything her hands reach. Then she tears apart the old photos before stumbling out of Sae’s room into the kitchen where she smashes her cooking for Sae, dishes and plates shattering on the spotless clean tile floor into pieces.

Her burst of anger only ends when she has no strength left and is standing in the center of her demolition, feels nothing, thinks nothing, sees nothing but red, hears nothing but the sound of her ragged breath ringing in her ears. She knows it. She knows that he is alive, and she will take him back, no matter what it may cost.

“I’m… not… useless. I’m not useless I’m not useless”, she whispers. “I… can’t afford to anymore.”

The anger is back in Makoto Niijima’s veins, steaming and burning in her body like fire, but the roots of her frustration are sprouting from a different source this time. She knows what to do now, and as if possessed by some force, she grabs her phone from the ruins of Sae’s room and opens the group chat.

 

 

 

 After taking command, Makoto discards of her phone and without further ado starts working on their comeback. The Phantom Thieves will strike back. Makoto takes a deep breath. She is in full control now.

And just like the look in her blood red eyes grows darker, the distortion in Makoto Niijima’s heart continues to grow like a tumor.

 

 

—

 

 

The smell of fear and teenager sweat is lingering in the student council room. Mishima is sitting across Ryuji Sakamoto, Ann Takamaki, Haru Okumura and the student council president, sitting with her arms crossed, waiting impatiently for him to explain himself.

“What do you have to say in your defense?”, the student council president glares at him. He always had found her intimidating but now the look in her eyes is just… scary. Mishima remembers that he picked up from his classmates’ chatter once that she practices martial arts in her leasure time.

“I… I, uhm… uh, ah…”, Mishima whimpers desperately, sweating some more. His eyes are again searching the room for a possible escape route while he is unsure what to say. Fidgeting restlessly in his chair, Mishima has to realize that there is no place to run. He swallows audibly. “Four against one, i-isn’t that a bit unfair?”, he whispers quietly to himself.

“You knew that we are the Thieves this whole time, didn’t you?”,  Haru asks him reproachfully. “You trusted us, and you believed in the good we do.”

“I did!”, Mishima croaks. “I totally did, I mean… I still do!”

“Then why did you take down the Phansite and ignored our orders?”, Takamaki asks. “It’s because you changed sides, huh?”, Sakamoto snarls at Mishima, leaning dangerously forward across the table. “You think that wanna-be detective is in the right, and he really did commit suicide while being in custody? And we were behind the mental shutdowns all this effin’ time? You really dumb enough to believe that?”

“H-heavens, n-no! That’s not the case at all! I know it wasn’t you, I always have and will t-trust you 100, no, 120%!!”

“Then why didn’t you do what we told you when we asked for your help?”

“I-I-I…!”, Mishima pants, his voice cracking, then it seems like his throat is blocked due to the fear and nothing comes out of him anymore. Ryuji wheezes.

“Listen, Mishima-kun”, Makoto tells him, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible despite her anger. “Since our… IT specialist is unavailable at the moment, we cannot trust anybody else with this mission, but you. It is really important for us to have reliable support at the moment.”

“Yeah. The whole world is acting against us, right now”, Takamaki says. “We really need any help we can get!”

“Besides, we don’t have much time left. We need to get this done by the end of the day.”

“That’s right. It’s the absolute worst time for you pussying out and not pickin’ up your effin’ phone!”

“I-I-I really wanted to be useful to you!”, Mishima says quickly.  “I-I-I really just wanted to support you guys, b-b-but…” He falls silent.

“But what?”

Mishima stays silent for a little longer, then clenches his fists. “T-t-t-they killed him, didn’t they…?!”, he sputters. “T-t-this isn’t some kind of game anymore. I mean, we’re not talking about some rapist or some money laundering – thing – I mean, they – whoever it was, t-those guys are the real deal!”

“Yeah, and we’re trying to stop them”, Ann intones grimly. “We told you we need your help with this.”

“But that’s impossible! I’m just an amateur developer, what if they figure out my true IP and location by working with the police? It could lead the police back to us if I did what you want me to do! M-maybe they could even find my house and come to arrest me… uhm, and my family! A-a-a-and yours, too!” Mishimas cry becomes a pleading whine. “I-I’m just a high school student and a self-taught amateur at coding, you know! I’m just the quest giver!! I'm not a Phantom Thief! I’m just a low AI NPC…!”

“Mishima-kun… I have no clue what that means.” Makoto releases a deep breath, her voice rising with each word, “We have thought of you as an accomplice for the whole year. Maybe you worked from the shadows, but you were one of the most important confidants we had. This was your first official mission given by the Phantom Thieves themselves. Don’t make it your last."

“B-b-but you guys can’t be serious about this. Have you lost your minds? You gotta be kidding. I-if you raise attention like that…” Mishima shakes his head quickly. “I r-really don’t want to get caught… You have to back down and surrender before it’s too late… before we’re all getting killed!”

Makoto stands up and slams an open hand on the table, and Mishima cowers away from her with a pathetic wince. “We will NOT surrender. This isn’t about our personal lives anymore. We have an obligation to the whole of society, so stop your whining.”

“If we can’t stop them, the entire nation is in danger”, Haru stresses. “We never needed you more, Mishima-kun. There is no other option for us. If they don’t hesitate to kill a high schooler, then they will probably come for us too eventually.”

“This is our only chance to fight back – or are you just going to sit back and watch?”

“You can go and make yourselves guilty and get yourself killed, for all I care!”, Mishima weeps. “I’m out! I’m not a suicidal martyr with special powers, I’m not a hero like you guys! I-I-I’m just a normal dude who faps to girl magazines, for heaven’s sake!”

“Tse, don’t even try to pussy out of this with that retarded argument”, Ryuji growls. “Look at us, we ain’t any superheroes, either, but we’re still fighting back. Dude, we’re risking our lives here for you, as well!”

“Yeah! It’s just like you acted back then with Kamoshida. Just telling yourself you’re too weak to fight back, makes you just as responsible as the criminals themselves!”, Ann tells him spitefully. There is a brief pause after Ann had confronted Mishima about Shiho. “Honestly, the way you act, you’re nothing but a coward!”

“T-that’s right!”, Mishima shouts back desperately. There is another small pause and the teenagers watch him as he suddenly hunches over, breaking into barely muffled sobs, voice dying down as tears start to form in his eyes.

“I h-heard it on TV when I was at home that day”, he whimpers. “’The leader of the Phantom Thieves… shot himself while being in police custody’. At first, I thought: That can’t be… he must be tricking us. It has to be part of some genius plan that I’m too unimportant to be informed about. But then, he… for days, he wasn’t answering my texts, or picking up my calls…”

The Thieves exchange a glance. No one interrupts him.

“…and then when he didn’t show up at school anymore, and Mrs Kawakami said that he went back to his hometown for some weeks, I felt so strange… I mean, w-we’re friends, right?! He would totally have told me if he went off to see his family for a few weeks… and then when I finally brought up the courage to speak to Sakamoto-kun at school, I… at first, I felt nothing. You know, before I eventually started to feel anything, there was just this… numbness at first. Like it’s not even real. And then… all these emotions bubbled up in a strange order – for example, I’d suddenly start laughing during class, in the middle of the day…  Completely out of place… Then I was suddenly angry and in shock… For some periods I felt completely fine, and then suddenly very sad, and… empty… and alone… and guilty. Every night since it happened, I cry myself to sleep…”

Mishima sobs grossly.

“I'm—just—struggling to grasp that I'll never talk to him or see him again... Y-you know, just a month ago, we went to the cinema together… And I n-never even had a friend who would go to the cinema with me… I-I actually never had any other friend, at all… it was so much fun, I felt like I had a real friend… and this week, there was the premiere in Shibuya of that movie I really wanted to see, and I got excited and out of habit bought 2 tickets, but then when I wanted to text him to invite him, I realized… and… then I went two times into the same movie again… and this time, I was all alone, just as I’ve always been before he transferred here… and I keep wanting to text him about what just happened, who I just saw, the newest mementos requests, the crazy thing that is going on, but I can't… … He’s dead, isn’t he?” Mishima snivels, tears dripping down his face on the floor. “He's gone. Truly gone.”

For quite a long time, he makes no sound except to snuffle and wipe his nose with the back of his sleeve.

“I… Whatever happens, I'll never forget him. He was the only good thing that has ever happened to me… the only one who ever listened to me… without laughing at me, or looking at me with pity or embarrassment. He actually… listened to what I said. He helped me fight back those guys who kept bullying me, and he was so cool while doing it, even if he barely said a thing. Just having him near me, being the one he chose to spend his time with… made me feel so much stronger, for some reason. He was… one of those people that will make your day better just seeing him. He was the first one to ever make me feel like I’m not a total loser. But… without him… … that’s just who I am. Without him… I can’t do this…”

“You are right that it will never be the same”, Haru says. “But all I can say is that you will learn to live with it, it will become a part of you. Eventually, it will make you stronger.”

“But… how am I supposed to just… go back to normal?”, Mishima snivels. “I still wait for him to text me. To come to class. Without him… I’m just… useless to you guys.” Mishima looks up with a broken sound, his face and nose red from all his crying. “I'm never going to get over this, am I…?”

Makoto, who had been listening to it all whilst staring down at him in faint disgust the whole time, suddenly slowly walks towards Mishima and without warning gives him a loud smack across the face, as hard as she can, her rage towards the boy now funneled entirely at her own loss.

“M-Makoto!”

Mishima almost falls off the chair and tumbles when Makoto seizes him by the collar, Mishima barely processing, hands clutched and with his eyes big in fear he looks up as Makoto, who is looming above him, punches him in the jaw, hard, his nose dripping blood on his white uniform top.

“Whoah”, Ryuji says, raising his eyebrows with a hint of intimidation. “Not bad, Mrs prez. That looked like it hurt.”

“Mako-chan”, Haru jumps and runs forward, touching her arm. “Please… please stop. I-I think that’s enough for now…”, she hurriedly turns her attention to Mishima. “Are you alright!?”

“I-I dink my nose is broken”, Mishima winces, holding his face. Everyone in the room sharply inhales the air in compassion when they all notice that one of his incisor teeth is missing, making him look even more pitiful.

“E-excuse me…!”, Makoto says baffedly by the mere strength of her punch, standing there, kind of lost with her hand still raised, turning to other other Thieves. “I-I didn’t mean to hit him that hard… He was just,… He wouldn’t stop whining…”

There is a knock on the door and a second later the door opens, two students standing there.

“Uuuhhh, Niijima-senpai?”, they ask. “How long until this meeting is over? you know, we wanted you to join our meeting about the school prom decoratio…”

“OUT!”, Makoto howls at them at full force, and the girls realize just now that there’s a bleeding Mishima, their expressions turning a bit dumbfolded. “Uh, ok. No problem. We’ll……..wait.” The door closes.

“Alright”, Makoto huffs exhaustedly, turning her attention back to Mishima. “We’re running out of time, so I’m only telling you this one last time.” She takes him by the collar and gives him a rough shake. Mishima emits a high pitch gasp that sounds alarmingly girly. “You’re gonna do what we asked of you right now, no protest.”

“You wanna know what happened to him?”, Ryuji barks in. “He didn’t kill himself, not at all. That Akechi guy was the one who shot him.”

Mishima flinches, blood dripping from his chin, these words seemingly finally having an impact on him. “I knew id, Sakamodo-kun… I always haded dhad guy. He was way doo handsome do nod have a dirdy secred do hide…”

“We know he tried to fake it as a suicide, and we suspect that he might even be behind all those murders happening.”

Makoto makes the gesture of a parent in resignation. “Anyways, back to the mission. Mishima, would you please put the site back online and add the text we sent to you?”

Ann pours out the contents of Mishima’s school bag on the table and takes his laptop, opening and turning it around to face Mishima. “Just do it. Help us avenge him”, she tells him. “Please.”

Mishima looks at the screen with big eyes. Suddenly he clenches his teeth.

“You know wad? Y-you can’t force me to risk my life”, he says, a finality to his voice. “I just... won’t do it. Dere is nothing you can do aboud id. Y-you can do id yourselves!”

Makoto sighs exasperatedly. “Then you leave us no choice.”

There’s the sound of a gun cocking and Mishima feels all blood leave his head and his face turning pale when he feels metal pressed against his back.

“Guys, wad are you…?”, he whispers stressedly.

“To defeat our enemy, we must learn to think and act just like him”, Makoto says bitterly. “That, or we will fail.”

“I would have preferred his death to be more befitting a traitor”, Ann comments almost conversationally, spreading the words dramatically as if reading from a script. “That is, particularly slow and humiliating, but...” She shrugs slightly, glancing over at Ryuji. "...we totally, like, have no time to spare, right?"

“That’s right”, Ryuji endorses. “I mean, we’re the famous Phantom Thieves. We ain’t got no time for losers!”

“W-w-w-whad?!”, Mishima squeaks. “Y-y-you guys are joking, righd!? Dhad’s not a real gun, righd!!?!?”

“Does it feel”, for good measure, Makoto rams the gun into his spine, “FAKE to you, Mishima-kun?”

“The mission must come first. There is no other way for us.”, Haru replies seriously. “You have betrayed us, and you know too much about us. We won’t forgive you. So, get prepared to die.”

“No!”, Mishima weeps, breaking into a self-pitying monologue of whining and pleading for his life which Makoto listens to long enough until she hears amongst the mess of whines the words she’s been waiting for.

“What did you say? You’re going to help us?”

“Y-yes yes yes, Mrs studend council presidend…!!”, Mishima shriecks, “just pleasepleaseplease don’d kill me, I wand to live, please, I’ll do anyding, anyding—”

“Ugh, you smell that?”, Ryuji growls.

“Uh God, I think he pissed himself.”, Ann rolls her eyes. “What a total loser.”

Mishima is weeping. Makoto looks in surprise at the others, then back to Mishima. It seems it worked. She quickly gets back into character. “You know what you have to do, then, right?”

“I do!”, Mishima grouches in pain. “I-I-I dodally know whaddo do, Mrs President!”

“Good, then do it.” With the gun still in his back, Mishima’s hands immediately fly to the keyboard. They all stand there behind him watching the screen expectantly as he does what they told him to do.

“Dat’s id”, Mishima finally says with horror in his voice as if he had just signed his death sentence. “Id’s online…”

“Good”, Makoto says, and as soon as he feels the gun being removed from his back, Mishima emits a suffering gasp, sinking to the floor whilst holding his cheek and searching for his missing tooth. Makoto carefully puts the toy gun into her bag. “We have no time to waste. Ryuji, Ann, Haru, come with me. We’ll meet the others at the gate.”

“Hey… you’re all going… to leave me here now?”, Mishima whimpers as they all make for the door. “W-what if they come for me, now? Aren’t you guys going to protect me…?”

Makoto stops at the door, looking at him with both pity and disturbance. “Would you please… wipe that blood away, before you leave.”

“…I don’d have a dissue…”, Mishima whimpers pathetically. Haru quickly goes back and hands him her beautiful ~O.H.~ embroidered high quality handkerchief with a worried look. While the girls leave, Mishima croaks, “S-Sakamoto-kun…”

Ryuji stands in the door and looks at him. “What?”

“Why are you doing this?”, Mishima sobs. “T-this isn’t what the Phantom Thieves are. I really… used to look up to you guys. You were my heroes. You were supposed to stand up against the bad guys… not become the bad ones yourselves.”

“Yeah, whatever. And by the way, asshole”, Ryuji says and Mishima looks up from the floor at Ryuji, sobbing and snuffling his runny nose with the expensive handkerchief.

“’Only friend’, my ass. Back in Hawaii, he told me how effin’ annoying you are, texting him all the time like some goddamn stalker fanboy, never shutting up about the damn Phansite.”

Mishima’s tear strained eyes widen in shock. “What…?”

“Yup… Hate to break it to you, bro, but here’s the deal: He didn’t give a single damn shit about your sorry ass.”

Mishima’s jaw falls open while the door closes behind the Thieves, the column of light falling into the student council president room getting narrower on Mishima's bloody face before it thins out completely, leaving him alone in darkness and despair.

 

 

—

 

 

 

One hour before closing time, the window shutters of the _Untouchable_  shop are down, the shop sign is flipped to CLOSED. The dark Shibuya back alley smells of urine and unwashed bodies due to the homeless who're camping out there late in the night. "This is a creepy place," Ann mutters. 

"Let's just get this over with", Makoto says.

A tall, intimidatingly dangerous looking man with gray hair and faint stubble is waiting in front of the shop, glaring down at the three girls as they approach him.

"Good evening, Sir", Makoto says politely, "I believe I called you earlier. Are you the owner of this... establishment?", she asks while gesticulating at the unattractive facade of the building.

"Get inside", is all he says, and they follow him wordlessly. Ann is glancing over her shoulder to inspect the gun replicas in the dusty shelves, then back at the new equipment already prepared and spread out over the counter. “Alright—here's your stuff, just what you ordered”, the shop owner says. “These replicas were careful created after the originals to ensure maximum accuracy. I had to go through a whole lotta trouble and call in some old favors to get these, so you better be grateful.”

“What’s this?”, Haru inquires, curiously touching one of the new gadgets.

“Well, depends on what you’re going to use it for”, Iwai answers. “You’d use this carabineer to bungee jump. Mil Spec Cord is used to hold down tanks on boats and in planes rather than to suspend adrenaline junkies jumping off bridges… As it turns out they work rather well for both.” The shop owner gives her a quick glance. “That is, hypothetically. Next, there’s a jetpack…” He takes the equipment out of its packing with a raised eyebrow. “I wouldn't push my luck with this one."

He looks down into the faces of his three customers, who seem rather young and short, or rather into where their faces should be because they’re all wearing scarves and hats, one of them even Ray Ban sunglasses in a somewhat exaggerated attempt to conceal their identities. He tries not to pay it any mind—as long as they pay the bill, he couldn’t care less what his customers look like. However, something feels wrong about the way the girl with particularly fluffy hair, too voluminous to be fully concealed, inspects the chainsaw replica with interest.

“The same goes for this. A grappling laser gun which helps you land after a bungee jump by pulling you towards a targeted object, then cutting it open with a laser. Needless to say, it’s a movie replica and belongs into a museum or something, it’s not for little kids to play around with.”

“That’s perfectly fine for our needs.”, Makoto says. She doesn’t seem intimidated by the shop owner’s glances at all.

“Now, for the stuff that actually works—more or less”, Iwai explains. “This is a keypad decoder, used to break into high-security areas. Next, we have a timer explosive. Sets the timer on bombs.”

“I claim this one!”, Ann’s eyes are shining as she picks up the biggest weapon of them all.

“An imitation flamethrower—looks like it could burn down a house, but that thing won’t do anything except grilling steaks, popping popcorn, lighting a camp fire.”, Iwai says suspiciously, “It comes with an additional fire-extinguisher—in case you're planning to do anything stupid.”

“Awesome. I can’t wait to try these out in the Metaverse”, Ann whispers excitedly. “We should have ordered these a long time ago.”

“Necessity is the mother of invention”, Haru smiles.

“And this?”, Makoto asks, pointing at the largest package.

"Something that’s only made for the Americans," Iwai says. "It's called a ghetto blaster."

“That sounds dangerous”, Haru says excitedly.

“If you want dangerous, this one’s the best bet among these”, Iwai opens the package to reveal a gigantic fake bomb that looks alarmingly realistic. “A demolition device, primarily intended for military combat, whose primary components are a charge of 20lbs C-4 plastic explosives.”

“This is just a hypothetical question, of course—", Makoto says, "considering these don’t work in real life, I mean. But you seem to, um… know your business quite well…”, Makoto meets Iwai’s dangerous stare and blushes just slightly, “So, well, which tools would you use to, for example, break through a security door which protects its contents with armored walls and a complex lock?”

Iwai blinks slowly, crosses his arms, then looks down to the C-4 detonator with a scoff. “Not that I'd have experience or sm'thing. But if you’d put a real one of these on a safe door, it would for sure blow the door off. It would also knock the safe’s walls off, the walls of the room you are in and the ceiling and roof would cave in. You can do the same thing to the door, without the extra fun by placing the charge properly and tamping it with an inert material. It can breach a safe easily, but… what is in that safe? If it can’t stand the concussive force, or might be ignitable, it’s probably better to find a safe cracker.”

“That wouldn’t be an issue”, Makoto says, “We're looking for something quick, effective, causing maximum damage.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t worry about explosives so much as industrial cutting tools. Either way, it is doable, but you know… explosives make a mess, so it’s the least desirable method. You’d want to get in quickly, get the job done, and leave.”

“So what is your recommendation?”, Haru asks.

“Depends”, Iwai says, “How much money do you have?”

“It’s not an issue”, Haru says friendly.

Iwai raises an eyebrow. “Then I’d take a DD 350 diamond coring rig. It weighs 76 pounds and it’s ideal for someone who needs to do a difficult job in a short period of time—without any screw-ups, that is. There’s only a few hundred replicas of this model; I can see if I can get you one by the end of the week.”

“We don’t have that much time”, Makoto shakes her head. “We’ll have to work with these.”

“It looks so real”, Ann says while inspecting the bomb.

“Well, don’t expect it to go off”, Iwai says. “It might be expensive as hell, but it ain’t the real thing.”

“That’s fine”, Haru says thoughtfully. “As long as they look realistically enough for someone to think they’d work.”

“Well, and now for the actually dangerous ones." The man puts six paper bags on the counter. Part salesmen, part gun guy and part father of a high schooler, the gun dealer is still reluctant to hand these kids the ordered, profiled Ruger LCR guns.

“Thank you“, Makoto says after looking inside of the bags. "That'll be all."

There’s a short break as the shop keeper scrutinizes the three high school girls doubtfully.

“Listen, I... normally don’t like commenting on purchases of my... ‘business customers’, but… it sure as hell looks a lot like you’re intending to rob the National Bank tonight.”

Ann giggles. “No worries, that’s not the case. Besides, we have experience with guns.”

“Playin' around with fake guns doesn't count as ' _experience_ '. Do you even know how to handle these?“, Iwai huffs.

“We're aware that these guns are real, and we are no novices. We are merely investing in some personal protection.", Makoto says.

 

 

 

 

“Self protection, huh.“, Iwai says. “Seems a bit too easy.“

“A dangerous remark, Sir.”, Makoto says. He gives her a quick glance. 

“I know you won’t give me any real names or something, so I won’t bother asking, and normally I don’t care. But you… seem oddly young. Not that I don’t wanna sell to you, but I’d feel a whole lotta more comfortable if you’d at least take that masquerade off.”

The girls look at each other, then take off their scarves and hats. Iwai looks into the young faces of three exceptional attractive school girls.

“We will use these responsibly. No one will get hurt”, Makoto assures him, not her first lie this week.

“I don’t usually have female customers, y’know.” The shop keeper crosses his arms. “Kind of hard to believe that teenage girls these days are into weapons. Don't get me wrong, I just... don't wanna regret this, and I have a particularly bad feeling about this. You three really don't look like experienced criminals, and I don't wanna get convicted for negligent homicide. Maybe I'd rather call the cops on you...”

He actually looks like he's having second thoughts about the deal. Makoto gets a bit nervous. “I hoped you’d understand… that this purchase should be handled with discretion. It… wouldn’t be wise to report us.”

“So that's why someone's sending me three teenage girls to pick up his goods? What are you going to do?”, Iwai snorts, looking the girls up and down. “Appeal to the kindness of my heart?”

“No, to your wallet.”, Ann narrows her eyes. Iwai scoffs. “Fine. You paid me 6 million in advance, God knows where you got that much from.” He leans forward and blinks. “But I just remembered I’ll need an additional 3 millions.”

“For what?”, Makoto inquires angrily.

Iwai stares at them with a raised eyebrow. “Consider it risk management.”

“It’s not a problem, Mako-chan.”, Haru assures her and counts the bills carefully before putting them on the counter. Iwai raises a brow, then reluctantly counts the bills as well. He shakes his head, then rummages through the pockets of his jacket and takes out a cigarette. He quit smoking these days, but today seems like a good day to make an exception.

“Guess that’s fine”, he says, lighting the cigarette with a lighter. “I already have a clue who you girls belong to. Don’t worry, I won’t report you.“

Makoto sighs relieved. “Thank you.”

“So I guess… you’re not going to carry these home in the subway?”

“A delivery truck owned by the Okumura company will arrive at 4 A.M.”, Haru explains. “There’s a branch closeby, so it won’t raise any suspicion. An Okumura logistics employee will help load the truck and deliver the goods to us.”

“Alright. I’ll be there to open the storage area. Just make sure he stops at the back entry.”

When the deal is settled, they’re standing in silence for a moment, Iwai idly exhaling the smoke into the dark air. He glances at a newspaper lying on the counter, then back to the girls.

“Did they kill him?” Iwai asks.

“You knew about him?” Makoto is baffled.

“Huh, his purchases were suspicious enough.”, Iwai takes another deep drag. “But he hasn’t stopped by in a while.”

“We don’t know what happened to him yet”, Makoto says with a dark glare. “But we’ll find out soon.”

“I don’t really care, but”, Iwai looks around the store. “It’s getting a bit dusty in here, so tell him to get his butt over here and help me out as soon as you find 'im.”

 

 

—

 

 

_“Allegedly affected by a mental breakdown, a journalist shot and killed his superior and two of his workmates at a corporate Christmas party in Odiwada, Shinjuku, on Monday this week, making it the second deadly domestic attack on the press since 11/30. As accounts of the shooting and its aftermath arrived, one detail stood out: Just as with several other incidents this year, the offender claimed to have no memories of the incident. The motives are unclear. We have junior detective Goro Akechi live at the studio for a statement.”_

_“Akechi-kun, despite the recent capture of their leader, the wave of mental breakdowns is still continuing. What is your explanation for this?"_

_“It appears as though the leader of the Phantom Thieves did not act alone. At this point, I suspect that his accomplices may have been motivated by retribution for their failed heist in November. Unfortunately, we have yet to capture the remaining Thieves, as the suspect was uncooperative and did not reveal the identities of his accomplices prior to committing suicide.—I am working with the police on the matter. At this instant, we cannot reveal any further details.”_

_“Thank you for the current state of investigation, Akechi-kun. As reported, police officials have confirmed the identity of the suspect who killed himself in custody, Ren Amamiya, who attended a local high school in Tokyo…”_

 

A coffee cup slides out of Sojiro’s trembling hands and crashes on the ground, the shattering sound deafening his ears for a moment as the unpleasant echo of the sound rings in his ears and it’s only when the ringing in his ears wears off that he realizes the sudden, insistent meowing outside the door. Immediately in that instant, the old café owner knows that something is off. Throwing away the towel in his hand, the old man storms out of the café, bursts open the door and thrashes through the narrow streets of Yongen-Jaya, following the hysterical meowing of the cat running in front of him to guide him.

As soon as he’s in his house he tries to throw open the door to Futaba’s room, just to find it locked. “Futaba!”, Sojiro roars at the top of his lungs, and with the cat’s insistent meowing in agony, he throws himself at full force against the door with his entire body weight several times, almost crushing his shoulder bones and joints whilst trying to break through, nothing else mattering now other than tearing down that door that separates him from his daughter. At the fourth attempt he manages to lift the door off the hinges and stumbles along with it into the dark room.

His deepest nightmare comes true when he sees her naked feet dangling, helplessly kicking; computer desk’s chair kicked to the ground below her, the girl hanging from the ceiling, hands clinging at the underside of the noose made from wire cables around her neck, her face a nasty shade of purple.

Every second counts. In the first heartbeat, Sojiro doesn’t know what action to take. Some panic instinct inside his mind screams to not try to pull her down since it would snap her neck and strangle her even further. Instead, he forcefully tries to support her and lift her up to release the tension of the ligature by putting one arm around her feet while using the other to push up under her bottom. Her weight is nothing in his arms, but Futaba doesn’t cooperate, kicking and squirming to get away from his grip or perhaps because the rubberized wire is so slippy, so instead Sojiro tries to get down so she can stand on him, lessening the pressure on her neck, but Futaba doesn’t even seem to recognize his presence anymore, foam is pouring from her mouth and she’s making a horrific noise, a sort of sobbing wail.

“I can’t drop you!”, the old man screams. “Breathe, Futaba, brea—a knife, I need a knife!”

In panic, he looks around the room with one single focus, he needs to find a knife or sharp object to cut the cable, while still holding her up; anything with spikes may do, but all he finds lying within reach are some scattered Sentai figures and her computer. There is no sharp object reachable without letting go of Futaba but he needs to keep holding her up, and despite her struggling he needs to stay steady on his feet, because if he’d trip he could pull on his daughter and break her neck—

“There’s no knife! What should I do, what should I do, Futaba!”, Sojiro shouts in desperation, and Futaba looks at him helplessly, struggling, as if she was in two minds about letting go, but then it is too late, her eyes slowly becoming empty, her arms are just hanging down now, wrists curling up, her nervous system shutting down, hyperflexing her body.

“No, no, no, no, no, no!”, Sojiro screams, and for some miraculous reason, the cat is suddenly there again, mewling insistently and clawing at his leg, sent by some merciful God, a kitchen knife in its mouth which Sojiro quickly grabs and slices the electric cable, and down falls Futaba, knees first on the floor with a thud while Sojiro manages to catch her upper body. Her whole body is unresponsive. Sojiro urgently turns her around to also cut the cable that is too tightly bound around her neck, alarmingly snagging on her skin. “No, no, no, no”, Sojiro repeats in deepest grief whilst holding her small, cold hand and pressing his ear against his girl’s chest.

There is a slow, weak heartbeat.

“Futaba, why, why, why”, Sojiro asks her sad stricken in love and grief over his girl, “Don’t do this to me… Don’t do this to me… don’t leave me…”

Gasping and half throttled, her eyes flicker open, bloodshot and tear-reddened, and she gasps and pants hard. Sojiro sees the glassed over eyes of that girl, his daughter, who has felt so bad she couldn’t stand the thought of living another day.

“Futaba…”, Sojiro says then he truly realizes what had happened, that he had walked in to Futaba hanging herself, and he starts shedding tears as he holds her malnourished, panting little body in his arms.

“Futaba, why, why…”

He holds her little orange ball of a head pressed tight against his chest. Futaba’s sorrow, for Sojiro, was the depletion of all his strength. Her unhappiness was the unbearable extreme of an absolute exhaustion. An immeasurable feeling of pain and guilt.

“I’m… s… ry …. mom…”, is all Futaba manages from her abused throat, then loses consciousness in exhaustion again. Sojiro carefully brushes away the overgrown hair from her pale face and for a long time doesn’t let go of her hand. Together with Ren Amamiya, the tiny seedling of hope inside of Futaba Sakura had died.

 

 

—

 

 

The days around Christmas are a great time to be in Tokyo: The city celebrates the season with some truly spectacular illuminations, the streets decorated with lights and LEDs which make it possible to string up tens of thousands of twinkly lights without draining all the electricity from the power grid or electrocuting crows on a rainy night. The Christmas decorations are truly mesmerizing this year; cheerful Christmas songs obviously make this atmosphere involving and encouraging, smiling eyes peeping out over scarves while Christmas shoppers dash and clash. Despite his slight melancholy on family holidays, Akechi can’t help his childish amazement at how it all is magical, and he too is soon captivated by the Christmas atmosphere and, particularly, by the aromas of Christmas whiff of freshly baked sugar cookies, roast chestnuts, the sweet, hot spiciness of cinnamon and apple sauce wafting through the snowy cold air.

Despite the cold weather, he takes a detour through the city to enjoy the pleasant smells on his way back home after work. Akechi remembers that he mustn’t miss the chance to get a Christmas cake, which is the latest trend in Tokyo right now, made with cream and strawberries—the colors of Santa Claus. One can find this seasonal treat in any convenience store or patisserie. Lured in by the warm, comforting smell of a bakery nearby, Akechi stops his ride home to get one of those cakes. Most people just got off work and want to grab something on their way home, so he has to stand in line for several minutes. Akechi watches the people in front of him and he can’t help but notice the striking number of couples standing in line. He checks his phone for any important news to kill time. Out of habit, he also checks the Phantom Thieves group chat he never was removed from for new messages, which are of course none. They probably created a new chat excluding him.

The weather forecast has announced approaching thunder this night, so he better hurries up now. After getting his cake, Akechi is casually checking social media on his phone while leaving the store. For some reason, there has been a slight, but recognizable increase in hate against him for the last couple of days. The number of negative comments isn’t incredible, but people seemingly don’t stop leaving him cryptic hateful comments. He doesn’t have the time to go skim over them when his phone rings.

“Yes?”

_“I’ve been informed that some teenagers are snooping around the Diet Building, asking nosy questions.”_

Akechi’s eyes widen for a moment, slightly baffled by the information, but manages to sound confident as always as he responds without hesitation, “It can’t be them. There is no way they would have made a connection between the two of us. I’ve played my part too well for that.”

_“Don’t get all smug about yourself just because you managed to get rid of their leader. I might get the impression that you’re turning too arrogant for this job. Do I have to assign someone else?”_

“Sir, in all honesty—there is no need for concern. I already delivered the fatal blow. The rest of them are just ants, a bunch of rebellious teenagers—easily controlled, easily manipulated. I don’t see them as anything resembling a threat.”

_“How can you be so sure they won’t try anything?”_

“I can easily look into this matter, of course. In fact, the Phantom Thieves are not supposed to know that it was I who betrayed them. I could show up at their hideout any day, claim I just managed to avoid capture, or even recruit them to ‘avenge’ their leader for future purposes, just as I fooled them into believing that I am on their side… As intimidated as they were by my skills, they’d all swear allegiance to me in a heartbeat. Then, when the time has come, we’d simply let them one by one be hit by a series of unfortunate accidents before—”

_“Enough of that. I want them dead, do you understand? I can’t let anyone with access to the Metaverse be alive. Don’t make me repeat myself.”_

Akechi clutches the phone in his hand. With the election moving closer, even that damned man seems to be losing his cool. This strange anxiety is something Akechi didn’t anticipate. Or could it be… evidence that someone truly was tampering with his heart? He looks around him again, growing unnerved himself. Now he needs to improvise. 

“Uhm, I… still think this is too sudden”, Akechi insists reservedly. “The recent series of mass mental shutdowns have caused too much panic. If the victim count would go over 20, it would cause an unnecessary international scandal. What is more, I only considered their leader a possible danger. I’ve been keeping an eye on them, of course. For the time being, they have continued their normal lives. It seems that they're too scared to do anything. Knowing their profile, I assume they’re either going to hide in fear, splinter, stay quiet or do something ungodly stupid that would get them caught or killed somewhere down the line. May I suggest that—”

_“Shut up already. My decision has been made. Find them—I want this issue off my table before the election.”_

“But, Sir… The election is in three days”, Akechi says seriously. “This seems like a somewhat rushed decision. And as far as I know, they haven’t entered the Metaverse once ever since that day, and I won’t have enough time to prepare a—”

 _“Why don’t you just shut your damn mouth for once”,_ the man shouts at him through the line and Akechi freezes instantly, _”AND DO AS I TELL YOU, or do you want to learn the consequences right this instant?!”_

The words feel like a slap to his face. This is getting out of hand. Akechi feels powerless all of a sudden, his script lost, thoughts racing in conflicted emotions as he grips the phone with two hands, the plastic bag with his Christmas cake long dropped and forgotten. Killing the Thieves as some prophylactic action is entirely unnecessary for his plan, but at this rate, he has no choice. Whatever happens, he can’t lose Shido’s trust now. He leans back against the cold wall behind him and takes a deep, silent breath. He must play his cards well now, or otherwise everything will be ruined.

“Then how should I do it?”, Akechi obliges sheepishly.

_“Let’s take them out all at once.”_

“That’s–that’s virtually impossible, within such a short time”, Akechi scoffs.

_“Then think of something. Just get those annoying rats off my case.”_

“Well, as they don’t have Metaverse shadows, it’s nearly impossible to kill all at once using my powers”, Akechi explains tensely. “Naturally, causing a truck driver to go psychotic in the exact moment all seven of them pass the street is…”

 _"I gave you a gun, didn’t I?”,_ Shido growls. _“Use your oh so famed detective skills to trace them down. Lead them into a trap, then shoot them, or poison them, drown them, bash them on the head. Try it with chloroform for all I care. I don't care how you kill the little shits. Just do it, and more importantly, do it NOW!"_

“Understood”, Akechi says reservedly. “I’ll dispose of them by the election. It won’t be a problem.”

_“Good. If I catch wind of any slack on your end, I'd rather not you meet the same fate as those we've eliminated thus far.”_

The line goes dead. Akechi’s gloved hands are trembling when he puts his phone away and continues his way as if nothing happened. Faint thunder rolls in the distance, making him look up towards the sky where he catches the sight of lightning that hides behind the veil of clouds. A rainstorm is coming.

Thank God he brought an umbrella.


	3. Countdown

 

11/14/20XX

**3 DAYS LEFT UNTIL THE DEADLINE**

 

 **DEEPLY absorbed in** **thought** in the Public Prosecutor’s Office employee’s kitchen, Akechi presses the SodaStream® button for several seconds until a loud buzz indicates that the water is carbonated. The pictures on the security cameras had proven it: The Phantom Thieves had successfully managed to enter Shido’s Palace. But the way they had done it, had almost been pathetic. They had appeared there in their school uniforms, then stood there for almost an hour, trying to figure out the keywords, presumably. Of course, Akechi had promptly reacted. After trying to confront them upon return and therefore, hiding and freezing in the snowy rain in front of the Diet Building for an entire day, they still hadn’t shown up—as if they had known what he knew.

Akechi sneezes in an extremely cute way, ignoring the audible shatter of several young hearts of female passengers. He can do nothing about the self-pity making him feel bitter now. In just a couple of days he would have followed through with his plan as intended. But now he needs to improvise, needs this task to be executed without mistake. Yet, this seems to be the most difficult mission he has ever received…and he also misses his good old friend caffeine.

But there is no use complaining and wailing in self-pity—several questions demand proper investigation. Akechi’s phone beeps and upon briefly glancing at the display, a scandalized gasp escapes the young detective, and he quickly shoves the phone back into his pocket. For some unknown reason, he has been receiving quite an insane amount of subscription emails from bizarre pornographic websites recently that somehow managed to go through his filter. What is more, his battery seems to die sooner than usual these days, despite the model being quite new. But despite being a nuisance, it doesn’t truly matter right now—and actually, the same goes for the Thieves: They had obviously chosen to target Shido’s heart next and presumably had already gained access to the Palace by now, so finding out the circumstances of how they had managed to do so didn’t truly matter at this point.

Moving to the second question: What were they planning? Ever since they had been captured on cameras while sneaking around the Diet Building, they seemed to have ceased any activity and started to act even more cautious. He hasn’t been able to encounter them in the Palace, and while stalking them in the real world, they had continued their usual lives. Had they known that he had watched them, and attempted to lull him into a false sense of security? Did they even infiltrate the police station, planted fake info and fake security camera recordings into the police database; just to make him believe that he had control over the situation this whole time? All these options were an actual possibility right now…

If any of this was true, then they certainly had succeeded… He hadn’t been watching them that closely recently, had felt at delusive ease about them, had thought about them as dealt with. With how much every single one of them had depended on Amamiya and how shallow and thin the bond between the rest of them had seemed in comparison, Akechi would even have expected a round of betrayal for everyone following their leader’s death. Part of him had thought they would start backstabbing and selling each other out at the first opportunity. He never had thought they would get this far. What mattered, is that Akechi clearly has an advantage over them in the Palace since he has no troubles navigating through it, while they still have to fight their way through.

Akechi remembers the _Phantom Aficionado_ Phansite that has been offline for a while now. The poll is gone, instead there’s simply an announcement—Phantom Thieves, currently hiring—A callout of people to help them take down the true criminals. Akechi stares at the display in disbelief. As always, their actions don’t make any sense, unless they are actually trying to build up their ranks?—Even at a moment like this, with everyone is acting against them, they keep believing in the good in people, in the power of teamwork... As pathetic as it is—it seems like something they’d actually try.

Akechi shields his eyes in second-hand embarrassment. How should he proceed in order to silence them? He had believed they wouldn’t be sharp enough to suspect him. He had intended to make the ruse look like a big failure, with Akechi, just as the rest of them, doing his best, but ultimately failing to save Amamiya from the hands of the conspiracy. A week ago, he would have simply gone to Leblanc now and told them something along the lines of “ _My apologies, unfortunately the Black Mask got Joker before me_ ” with an innocent sad look, then if necessary, slowly attempt to incite them against each other so they would eventually disband, but now it’s entirely uncertain if this simple little show would be enough to regain their trust. Just how much did they know? How much of a real danger did they pose?

Should he just work with the police again, have them arrested and locked away? A mass suicide in prison, especially after the police had been too careless to stop the first one, would seem too suspicions. They were already walking on thin ice due to the last-minute mass cleanup. Shido merely knows their names, and nobody had even cared enough to check Ren’s identity, so what if he just got rid of seven random high schoolers and a cat? But if the real Thieves would pull an act afterwards, he would risk losing Shido’s trust once again… No, that wasn’t quite enough. Given how dangerous they were in Shido’s eyes, having access to metaverse and most likely knowing about the truth, they had to be removed.

One by one, Akechi goes through the each Phantom Thieves member's case file, each consisting of a name, attended high school, picture, and a background check on their criminal record retrieved from the police database. He had carefully documented all his observations during the past months. The first handful are close friends, but it's more of a collection of rebels and misfits than a friendship circle. Outsiders, all of them weakly tied to their social environment, a large part of them with only a minimum of close family members. Presumably, not many people would take notice of their disappearance.

Looking at these files, they're just like all his other targets before—except for that he actually got to know them personally. Although that might be an overstatement—he had never truly been part of them; as always, he had had his walls up against others and his focus had merely been on their leader, which is why he never had any strong feelings towards any other Phantom Thief, and now that he contemplates his encounters with the rest of them, he is painfully reminded of how every time they were on a Mementos mission, driving around in that uncomfortable vehicle, he would keep starting discussions or share interesting trivia, any attempt of a lengthy ‘discussion’ quickly diminishing with Sakamoto interrupting the conversation with ‘Hey man, what's it mean when yo dick burns when you pee?’ or some similarly unintelligent statement, Takamaki screeching in disapproval in tinnitus inducing immediate proximity to his ear, only for Yusuke to proceed with mentioning that he ate eight wild mushrooms in the park the other day. In all these instances, he had only survived by saying nothing in response, and clutching his fist in silence.

No, he has always been fairly indifferent towards all of them, maybe with slightly more amicable feelings towards Sae’s sister, who at least is slightly smarter than the rest, and the Sakura girl—well, at least her skills had been useful in the Palace. To be fair, Takamaki had been the least difficult to converse with, since she was easily entertained with topics such as pastries or the latest restaurant hot spots in Tokyo.

On the other hand, he had never seemed to break through to Kitagawa at all due to his air-headedness and inability to hold a normal conversation. Any statement coming from the Madarame pupil had left a silent, unpleasant confusion in Akechi as to whether this person was aware of the implications of his spoken words.

Then there was this annoying talking cat without any explanation to its existence, leaving no significant memory other than distrustful glances and sneezes due to the cat hair on his prestigious uniform that he ought to keep clean. The Okumura heir, a somewhat forgettable individual with no striking abilities, had left absolutely no impression on him. She had proven particularly passive in strategy discussions and generally appeared to only have joined the Thieves because she had hoped for an eventual romantic involvement with Joker. At least, it had been slightly amusing to him at times how quickly a discussion about Global Warming could be reverted to a discussion about milkshakes whenever Sakamoto barked in. Sakamoto, the most talk active of them all, had never ceased to antagonize him and Akechi had found it entertaining to torment him in return.

Overall, it had been painfully obvious as well as disappointing to him how little will or opinion Phantom Thieves like Kitagawa, Takamaki and Okumura had to add to discussions. Like weak willed side characters on the periphery, they always seemed to have no opinion on their own, just going along with anything the others would propose. Not to mention the humiliation he suffered when the Phantom Thieves' shared group chat died for the rest of the day after Akechi politely posted an invitation to lunch. Truth be told, he anyways never really took a liking to any of them.

With a sigh, Akechi closes his laptop and gathers his belongings. At this point, it seems as if there’s only one person left foolish enough to help him out.

“A wonderful good morning” Akechi wishes with a fake smile when the door to Sae’s office swings open.

“Not really”, Sae replies unresponsively and Akechi puts a cup of steaming hot coffee on her desk with just a glass of carbonated water for himself. “My, how gloomy. It’s been raining for days now.”

“No coffee for you today?”, Sae asks only mildly interested over the paperwork that sits in haphazard piles on her overcrowded desk. She doesn’t do small talk, but by now, they are already accustomed to politely hiding the fact that they do not enjoy each other’s company.

“Ah, perceptive as always, Sae-s—”, in the middle of his compliment his phone rings, and Akechi briefly looks at it to see yet another pornographic virus advertisement with various typos appear on screen. With just the slightest hint of annoyance in his untroubled smile, Akechi sets his phone on silent mode and gently puts it back into his pocket. “My apologies. I’m switching to mineral water for now—in compensation, I bought this brand new ‘Soda Stream®’ machine at the Akihabara Christmas market the other day. It’s a great gadget, easy to use, and the taste is refreshing, truly a convenient alternative to caffeine. You know—coffee is said to increase stress hormones, after all”, Akechi explains casually.

“Fantastic”, Sae says emotionless, eyes glued to her laptop screen.

“By the by, there’s another gift I received yesterday from a fan. I don’t need it, but I figured it may help you cheer up” He hands her a nice envelope with a voucher for dinner and a show for two.

“Is that supposed to be funny? Don't tell me you came all this way here just to be sarcastic.”, she scoffs, but takes it anyways. She doesn’t look too good, the black Ralph Lauren business suit with a black turtleneck is too severe. She rarely smiles. She needs more make-up.

“Sorry for interrupting you.” Unaffected by her hostility, Akechi puts down his attaché case but before he can try to catch her attention again, the flushed head of an intern appears at the door. “Good morning, Akechi-kun♡. The investigation team wants you to know that they are already waiting for you♡.”

“Understood. I’ll be there in a minute”, Akechi smiles at her.

“By the way, your selfie with the man who got decapitated in that car crash looked so cool.”

Sae raises an eyebrow. “Selfie with…” She finally looks up at Akechi. Did he actually take 'hunting trophy' pictures with dead suspects? At this point she wouldn’t even be surprised by now if he would have found it funny to take a selfie with the Phantom Thieves’ leader’s corpse. Doesn’t he have parents to scold him for such audacity?

“Ahaha, thank you. I was worried it could be perceived as distasteful, but I received quite a lot of positive responses.”

“I’m sure you will solve this case, too! Please keep up the good work, Akechi-kun“, she swoons before leaving.

Sae stares right through him, her expression quite close to something like envy. This kid… coming here with his genius skills and not even a high school degree, solving the most notorious cases and becoming the star of the office in the blink of an eye, breaking hearts left and right like it was nothing for him, even having _fun_ at work while Sae herself has been struggling with her slave job for years.

She never had paid the kid too much mind. Had he always been this annoying? He doesn’t even work here but lately, his comments on cases were constantly on TV, or was that just her subjective perception? No. He has been going in and out here much more frequently lately, even using the employee’s cafeteria and staff kitchen like he’s already officially working here. Does that kid even go to school?, Sae wonders. She thinks back to when she had first made contact, back when his name started to be mentioned constantly during her prosecutions.

_“Well, your honor, according to the evidence provided by Goro Akechi…“_

_“As you can see the evidence provided by Goro Akechi…”_

_“And to bring the evidence forward I would like to call Goro Akechi to the stand…“_

How long had it been? A year and a half, two? Professionals in the same field tend to meet one another, even in competing firms, and she had prosecuted all the cases he broke. It was soon afterwards that the SIU Director came to her office to introduce him as an ‘amateur detective with surprising talent’. With him being nothing but a blue-eyed amateur, she hadn’t taken him seriously at all, albeit scented a possibility to use his unnatural skills to help her win some cases. He had been in charge of the berserk cases, and Sae had always suspected the berserk cases, mental shutdowns and change of hearts were connected someway, so working with him was the only logical conclusion.

One day, he had asked her to join him for cake and coffee. He had good manners, seemed mostly mature and well educated, but looked somewhat young, and it was only much later that she’d find out he was merely a high schooler—the same age as Makoto. Despite being a teenager and despite his somewhat charming way of speaking, he never seemed to check her out or attempt to flirt with her. He managed to juggle his detective work with being an honor student and keeping up his good grades. Also, his opinion did mostly align with her intuition. She couldn’t deny the fact that the kid was exceptionally clever. He knew how to ask just the right questions, see the same patterns as she did.

Despite this, something about him had always been putting her off—maybe it was his age, maybe his strange habit of inviting himself to expensive food and making her pay for it, maybe it was how much she detested kids in general. In fact, she didn’t know a single thing about him, except for him allegedly being treated like some kind of teen idol by the media. Nevertheless, her disgruntlement towards him had increased considerably with him fooling her during the recent capture of the leader of the Phantom Thieves. She resented him for stealing her potential spotlight in the mental shutdown case. Akechi was now in charge of investigations while she was permanently removed from the case that Japan cared most about. Despite this, she was a professional, and of course wouldn’t put her anger towards him on display. They were coworkers, nothing more.

“You should be thankful”, Sae says with a not so hidden hint of bitterness. “Getting assigned to a case like that, I thought you were joking at first. You managed to make your mark quite quickly. At your age even.”

“Ah… in fact, I’m quite astonished myself.”

“I suppose you are”, Sae says, then suddenly shuts her laptop and opens a drawer to retrieve a plastic bag. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something about this.”

“Huh?” Akechi moves beside her to look at it, noticing how Sae smells of sweaty must—she must have had a long day at the office. He takes the transparent bag with the confiscated personal items from her, containing a bunch of keys, a phone and a worn wallet. He reluctantly takes the silver Sony Xperia smartphone from it. “Is this…?”

“It’s his”, Sae says, watching Akechi’s reaction carefully before explaining. “We’ve managed to crack the lock. Truth to be told, I’ve retrieved this item from the mobile device forensics team and withheld it from the judges. For some reason, during my last interrogation before his suicide, he insisted that I’d show you this. Can you make any sense of that?”

Akechi is too upset for a moment that she had had the insolence of retrieving Ren’s mobile phone. Was she still investigating the case on her own? Was she now suspicious of him? Was he being investigated? He tries to act calm and turns the phone in his gloved hands carefully.

“You’ve asked me that before, haven’t you? Nothing I can think of. It’s just a normal phone, after all.”

“He insisted that I’d show you this phone, and I did. It seemed as if nothing happened though, and just after that, the power went out. We found nothing odd on the phone, except maybe for the fact that it’s tracked and had some inactive spyware installed. But now… after this kid committed suicide… I just can’t stop thinking about how weird it all was. He said everything would be clear if I would just show you this phone. He kept insisting that I would understand.”, she says, eyebrows knitted. Nothing happens while Akechi keeps reluctantly inspecting Ren Amamiya’s phone. Pushing the home button, there is an empty space in the overview of apps. The NavApp icon gone.

The NavApp… Could it be…? It has to be connected. They must have had some sort of plan, and he doesn’t know what.

“I think that something about this phone holds the answer to the truth.”, Sae says, then, when no reply comes, and she notices that Akechi has spaced about, continues, “Did you know that he admitted being the leader of the Phantom Thieves, but claimed innocence when it came to the murders? Until the end, he vehemently denied being behind a single mental shutdown.”

And suddenly it dawns on Akechi what the Thieves might have planned to do to him... But that’s impossible. They must have figured him out a long time ago. But how…? His heart turns to ice as the puzzle pieces fall together and he realizes how close they had come to tricking him… All of this had been part of their plan, deceiving him by letting him think that they were oblivious of his lies, keeping him in the dark, because if he had an indication that they knew, he would have concluded they were going to try something...

Just how much did they secretly know…? This sudden uncertainty causes a major wave of panic creeping into Akechi’s veins. They’re planning to ruin his plan, aren’t they? Those deceitful rats... Why couldn’t they just stay on hold for three days longer? Some part of him just wants to leave this office right now, take his gun and go straight to Leblanc before they can go through with whatever they’re planning.

Akechi notices that he has been quiet for too long. He acts innocently and tucks the phone back into the evidence bag. “Well, if you want to hear my honest opinion on this… I wouldn’t think too much of it. He probably was just trying to buy himself time. Plus, he seemed to be quite affected by the truth serum he was injected with, didn’t he? That being said, it’s plausible to assume that he was hallucinating in the last moments before committing suicide.”

Akechi casually opens his attaché case to take the phone with him but Sae extends her arm. “Give it back”, she tells him sharply, and an uncharacteristically hostile silence follows until she adds tensely, “please.”

There’s a brief, offended pause, and Akechi attempts to ease the tension by chuckling lightly. “Ah, I believe it’s better for me to bring this to the investigation team. Since you already looked it through, it’s nothing but a burden for you, anyways. And you’ve been pulled off the case, remember?”

“What did he say to you?”, Sae asks suddenly.

“I beg your pardon?”, Akechi says flabbergasted.

“During your interrogation”, Sae clarifies. “Right after I left him to you. Before he shot the guard and committed suicide.”

“Oh” Akechi says sternly. “It’s all written in my report, of course. Didn’t you read it, Sae-san? That actually surprises me.”

“I did”, she says slowly and attentively leans back, arms crossed expectantly. Her tone sounds somewhat changed, somewhat colder, when she says, “But I want to hear it from you, personally.”

They silently stare at each other for a strange moment. Sae is watching him closely, obviously estimating the credibility of his next statement, intending to analyze him for nervous behavior like she usually handles suspects during interrogations. Akechi almost feels insulted in his intelligence that she would try and test him like that, but they’re both experts at this little game.

Taking a brief second to control his body language, he focuses his senses to all those little things he has learned to bring to perfection during the last three years: remaining deep direct eye contact while maintaining a conscious effort to blink slowly, slowly turning his body facing the person directly, his whole body relaxed and unmoving, and with his voice slightly lower than normally he says: “It’s as I wrote in report, Sae-san: He apologized to me for causing the mental shutdowns.”

Sae regards him for a long time.

Akechi closes his eyes, then shakes his head. “Despite his apology, of course, I didn't know that he would feel remorseful enough to end his own life right after this. It really is a pity that his and the guard’s lives couldn’t be spared.”

Sae says nothing, her eyes subtly wandering to the steaming coffee he brought her. Even if he doesn’t really need Sae’s approval, he seems to take genuine offense, dropping his optimistic, cautious TV personality just a little bit.

“You seem suspicious of me, Sae-san”, Akechi says sadly, with even a hint of silent anger hidden behind firm professionalism. “I have always honored you as a trusted colleague. After all this time we worked together, I can’t deny that it hurts my pride a bit that this case would put a burden on our mutual respect. Out of all people, I did believe you would understand the good intention behind my actions.”

“Well… You deceived me once, already”, Sae says, then sighs deeply. “I still can’t believe they took me off the case. I was even temporarily dismissed from duty and told to remain on standby. It was as if they saw me as nothing but a pest.”

“With me having to act undercover, the chain of command was indeed quite chaotic. I was their silver bullet, after all.”

“This case…” Sae shakes her head bitterly. “So many things just don’t add up. There are so many inconsistencies and unanswered questions. I don’t even know the details of how you suddenly managed to gain those strange ‘powers’, the report just describes a bizarre phenomenon hidden behind ‘confidential information’ marks.”

“It was necessary to withhold information from you. After all, there was a threat of you getting too personally involved.”

Sae glances up at him, then says slowly, “What a disappointing end. Despite him being under the influence of the truth serum, he refused to cooperate with me and sell out his teammates. And yet, it's such a strange story… everything seems to speak against him, but… the whole time, he had this honest look in his eyes. It… kind of reminded me of someone. It was just… My instincts told me that we caught the wrong culprit.”

Akechi takes a step back, leaning against the door frame. “Sae-san, I don’t mean to be rude, but this case seems to really have had you on the edge for a long time now. May I suggest you leave this case be, go home and get some sleep, or even a vacation. On top of that, I’m sure Makoto is in need of some parental advice right now.”

“…well, I can’t deny that.”, Sae murmurs. She still hadn’t brought herself to check out of the hotel.

“I’ve heard that the hot springs in Hakone might still have a number of rooms available at this time of year.”, Akechi suggests, picks up his attaché case and prepares to leave. “Well then, it was nice speaking to you, Sae-san. I’ll be going, then.” Sae sighs and stops him when he’s one step from the door. “Akechi-kun…Let me ask you something one more thing.” She continues fidgeting restlessly with the pen in her hand.

“Yes?”

“I don’t know your personal circumstances and I shouldn’t inquire, but… All these dangers of working alongside them, risking your life at such a young age. Why are you doing this? What is your motivation?”

Akechi’s gaze becomes slightly absent as he looks at her over his shoulder.

“Well, you know…” He makes a dramatic pause, then turns to look at her without hesitation. “A few days ago, I walked here from the metro station and as many times before, happened to be recognized. I was held and hugged by grieving family members, parents and children, mourning their lost spouses and fathers. And they asked, 'Why does this keep happening? Why do they keep on killing?’ And they pleaded that we do more to stop the carnage.”

“I see”, Sae says simply.

“I’ve never told you this, but…” There is visible pain in Akechi’s eyes as he decides to reveal his tragic story to her for sympathy points. “My mother committed suicide when I was merely a child. I’ve been a foster child early on, and never had a family. I know… I know how difficult it is, growing up without a parent.”

Sae says nothing. The silence stretches as she seems to get lost in her mind. “I just cannot fathom how I didn’t notice anything for so long”, she then says absently. “I… didn’t realize Makoto and I had drifted so far apart over the last years since our father’s death.”

“Don’t worry about it anymore. Leave this case to me and the team. We’ll find out the truth soon and bring this case to a closure—no more mysteries.”

Sae doesn’t wish him goodbye as he leaves. She looks like she urgently needs a drink.

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

Akechi is in the next moment removed from the chat. Shortly after this, all of them seem to have blocked his number with the exception of Sakamoto, who briefly unblocks him to send him another virus. This is turning increasingly ridiculous.

Akechi sips from his carbonated mineral water. No, Shido’s fear was truly exaggerated. Without their leader, the Phantom Thieves were as a matter of fact, dealt with. Even if he didn’t know what they were planning, at this point, it was Niijima Makoto—and maybe that Sakura girl—against Akechi. It seems like an easy win, but it’s hard to tell given how they haven’t done anything yet. The Palace had been completely intact when he entered it last time, and the chance that they would manage to clear it in just three days was minimal. Akechi merely wishes they wouldn’t waste his time with this pathetic attempt to change Shido’s heart without Joker’s unique powers, the only capable amongst their group.

It's not until two days later that one of them falls for his trap. Not quite surprisingly, it’s the Okumura girl who contacts him. The girl had always stroke him as naïve and weak. While they had been working together, Akechi had learned that the Okumura heir had been the most recent member to join the team, hence with the weakest connection to the Phantom Thieves—what is more, the Thieves being unable to prevent the death of her father must have cast a bad light on them in her gentle, big deer eyes.

Haru Okumura had chosen a neutral location, the LeRepas bakery & café close to Shibuya station, and has taken place on the upper floor, overlooking Shibuya Crossing, just a steaming cup of coffee and an empty chair in front of her, nothing else. When she sees him enter the café, she feels a strange void inside of her. Seeing him for the first time after knowing what happened is very confronting. Haru is unsure how to act being in such close proximity to the man who she believes is responsible for the death of her closest friend, and possibly even her father.

He gently slides his gloved hand over the table’s surface as he sits down opposite of her. Nothing about him seems off, he looks as calm, aloof and attractive as always. There is a long pause, only filled with the clatter and chatter of the café around them, while Akechi carefully folds his gloved hands on the table.

“Thank you for contacting me”, Akechi tells her, voice low. “I was hoping to get through to you and the others.” His gaze falls to the side, in an almost rueful manner. “I know you must all be going through hell right now.”

“Please consider this nothing more than peace talks, Akechi-kun… I am willing to hear what you have to say”, Haru says warily. There are dark shadows under her guarded brown eyes and she looks pale, she may have lost some weight. “You should know that the others… they don’t know that I have contacted you. They wouldn’t even approve of me being here... In fact, they all have lost faith in you a long time ago.”

“I see.”, he seems slightly disappointed. “Then what about you?”, Akechi asks her carefully.

Haru sits up uncomfortably straight and tense, her legs pressed together.

“I don’t trust you”, Haru tells him without making eye contact. “The others are very angry about what happened, but… they have accepted the situation for what it is. It’s just… I feel like I’m experiencing something different. I feel a sense of emptiness, because there are so many unanswered questions. I just… I agreed to an interim truce because I want to have answers from you. That’s why I wanted to speak to you… before we may meet in other circumstances where we might… not have the opportunity to talk.”

“I understand”, Akechi says calmly, “In that case, it is a mutual opportunity to talk, and to ask questions.” He crosses one leg over the other. “You intended to have me meet his metaverse self, isn’t that true? You were planning on tricking me by using that phone. However, whatever it was you were hoping to happen—it seems that it didn’t.”

“Akechi-kun”, Haru whispers, voice shaking, and for the first time, bringing herself to make direct eye contact with him. “Why did you betray us? What is it that you want from us?”

“I don’t enjoy this at all. To be honest, I sincerely attempted to prevent this, but unfortunately, things developed differently than expected.” Akechi makes a dramatic pause. “There is something you need to know.“, he suddenly leans forward and lowers his voice discreetly. “I know we aren’t on friendly terms, but I cannot tell you the truth of what happened just yet. I am being watched by someone... This is why I need you to trust me a little bit longer. To be honest, I was hoping you’d understand—I am in urgent need of your help. You need to convince the others to turn themselves in and confess their crimes. This is the only way to spare their lives.”

Something flickers over Haru’s face before her rosy lips turn into a thin line. Her indecisive gaze drops to the table in between them for quite some time.

“Akechi-kun”, she then says tensely, looking him straight in the eye again. “Why did you kill Ren-kun? What... what were you thinking on that day, in that moment?”

Akechi’s dark reddish brown eyes widen for a short moment.

“Okumura-san…”, he says, torn between bafflement and indignation. He shakes his head. “Why would you suspect _me_ of all…”

“It was also your hand that killed my father, wasn’t it”, Haru interrupts him, her voice barely above a whisper now, nearly lost in the ambient sound of chattering people around them. Haru’s lips are quivering, but she isn’t crying; instead, there now is distant, suppressed anger shining in her maroon eyes. Akechi leans back in his chair a bit as if trying to distance himself from her sudden allegation.

“You seem to resent me quite a lot, Okumura-chan”, Akechi says, tired. “Considering the gravity of your accusation. It hurts me to hear that this is how you think of me—despite your lack of evidence. But I do understand how things are, now. The others must feel the same about me.” A slight pause, Akechi interlaces his hands. “But, given how things are right now… To be honest, I _am_ a bit surprised. If you truly believe that it was me, then why did you agree to meet me?”

“As I said… It’s difficult to describe how I feel... about you”, Haru says with a pained expression. She briefly shakes her head. “To be honest, I am not good at expressing myself with words… I believe I’m unfortunately the type to hold my sadness inside and deal with negative emotions internally to the detriment of my health. Ren-kun was the one who taught me that I have to be more honest about my own feelings... and to stand up for myself. The others helped me a lot to cope with everything that happened, since it has really been… a lot for me. But even with their help, the sorrow doesn’t go away. This is why I need to speak, why I want you to know how I feel, and I need you to listen.” Haru looks up, directly into his eyes. “I’d like you to know what I felt when my father died.”

“Okumura-san, while it’s terrible what happened to you, and I am truly sorry for your loss”, Akechi says without missing a beat, “I must insist that these accusations are truly uncalled for. It would be extremely unfair to hold me responsi…”

“Please stop”, Haru interrupts him harshly, before lowering her voice again to barely a shuddering whisper, “It makes me very angry, Akechi-kun.”

Akechi exhales the air. “Well, I suppose there are too many unresolved emotions between us for constructive arguments. Thus, there is no point in trying to change your perspective”, Akechi says. “But since we’re already here, and you’re merely wishing for me to hear your thoughts, I’m happy to oblige.”

“I would appreciate it… if we could stay polite and calm about this.”

“Agreed.”

The chains of the Death Arcana are breaking as a deal between Akechi and Haru Okumura is established. Akechi looks at her while Haru diverts her gaze, taking a deep breath.

“I hadn’t talked to my father ever since his heart had been changed. I saw his mental shutdown on live TV while being at Destinyland to celebrate with the others. I didn't contact the others for a little while. Despite them offering their support, I was unable to accept their help just yet.”

Her eyes are fixed on the surface of the coffee in the cup in front of her, long gone cold.

“The day it happened, police forces were all over the Okumura residence, gathering evidence. My father was still comatose for a while before I received the notice of death. After that, media representatives wouldn’t stop occupying my house. I just wished they would go away after some time, but they didn’t. I had to stay locked in until I couldn’t stand it anymore and agreed to make a statement. I broke down in tears when I saw a photo of my father on the front page of the newspaper the next day. That was the moment… that made it real. He was…”

Haru Okumura loses her words, biting her lip. Her hands curl in her lap.

“The judges insisted my father’s body to be examined, so his funeral was one week later… it was a big funeral, and I was there alone with nobody close to me. I couldn’t bring myself to contact the others at that point, because I was so confused and mad about what had happened...”

Akechi makes a thoughtful, understanding noise, the catchy Phoenix Ranger Feathermen opening tune still stuck in his head and running on repeat ever since he saw half of an episode this morning.

“The funeral turned out to be more of a marketing event than anything else. It made me so angry when I saw paparazzi hiding in the bushes, attempting to take pictures of my father’s coffin and me while I was grieving... Lots of people were there to say my father farewell, lots of them I didn’t know or have never seen before. A lot of people suddenly started being nice to me. They tried to act like it was out of respect, but I believe they just want to use me...”

Haru is still wrathfully staring at the tabletop. Akechi uses her distraction to swiftly glance at his wrist watch. He wanted to return some mystery DVDs today, but he fears he probably won’t make it there in time within the opening hours.

“My life has been horrible ever since”, Haru tells him. “Many people even seemed to be happy that my father passed away. Especially my fiancée… he is now engaged to the majority shareholder of the Okumura group, after all. Unfortunately, my father went before he could fulfill his promise to rescind the marriage proposal and...”

“Okumura-san”, he interrupts her, “excuse my curiosity. I don’t want to seem rude, but as far as I have understood, you agreed to cooperate with the Phantom Thieves in having your father’s heart stolen”, Akechi suddenly tells her seriously. “When you made this decision, you weren’t familiar with the Phantom Thieves and their methods at all. Did you perhaps consider the potential threats of a change of a heart from the target's perspective?”

“Of course I did”, Haru says, but there is a slight change, a slight waver in her voice, like he hit a nerve.

“Have you ever considered that his death might have been a late complication to his change of heart?”

“N-no…”, Haru says reluctantly. “That’s impossible. If that was the case, it would have happened with the previous targets, too.”

“So you don’t hold yourself responsible… for what happened to him.”

“Please don’t try to confuse me, Akechi-kun”, Haru tells him tensely. “A-all previous targets haven’t died, even when their hearts had been changed…”

“Well, while you are right—unfortunately, that’s not what I meant. You did see in which condition the targets had been after their hearts had been manipulated, yes? All of them were reduced to a crying mess, with no will left to continue their subsistence, left alone to rot in prison. This is the fate you have chosen for your father, too, by willingly agreeing to his change of heart.”

“But…” She seems truly conflicted now. This is way too easy. “But… that’s not true”, Haru says, eyes to the ground in suffering. “We changed… Futaba’s heart too, and she was fine leading an even better life afterwards! She has been doing fine after her change of heart… even overcoming her extreme social anxiety…”

“Really? That’s interesting”, Akechi points out, hearing this detail for the first time. He touches his chin in thought. “Albeit I do assume it helped that she had you guys by her side back then to help her readjust? Anyways, I highly assume that the only way to get better from having one’s distorted desires removed is to have someone looking after them, making sure they don't slip and just give up. Correct me if I’m mistaken, but you claimed you weren’t there for him after his heart had been changed. All other former targets didn't have anyone to help them cope with their sudden, extreme guilt. After they confessed publicly, no one cared about them… including the people who attempted to ‘fix’ them.” Akechi shakes his head reproachfully.

“To be honest, I wonder if you could have prevented this tragedy if you had been there to help him rehabilitate. He had no one in his life right then, did he? Now, this is just an assumption of mine, but we have seen how miserable the Phantom Thieves’ former targets have become after the change. Especially due to his high age and health issues, it might be hypothetically possible that having to deal with a reform on his own might have been too much for your father.”

“B-but, I...“, Haru whispers, close to tears.

“Why didn’t you attempt speaking to your father?”, Akechi asks her seriously. “Maybe you had given up on him at that point after you found out about his true nature?" Akechi blinks at her slowly. "Maybe you thought he was destined to die?”

There is a long pause after that. Disbelief and shock are written all over Haru’s face.

“Akechi-kun”, Haru murmurs in horror, “How… how could you… even say such a terrible thing.” 

"Uhm, I don't intend offense", Akechi says quickly. "Of course, those are just my personal thoughts on the matter."

“S-stop talking about him like this is just an investigation, like… like it does not concern you personally”, Haru says, breaking into tears. 

She had invited him here to tell him all this, but Akechi cannot fathom to comprehend where the problem lies. From what she's been telling him so far about her personal life, losing her father had probably been the best thing that could have happened for her. Objectively speaking, Okumura’s stock prize hasn’t plummeted a bit ever since he had received a calling card. The actual scandal of Okumura's crimes had been quite overlooked over the fact that he was killed by the Phantom Thieves—it even helped his business grow and gain momentum. However, simply changing his heart would have ruined her father and his business. Had her father survived, he would have gone to jail for all his crimes and the girl would have had nothing—she'd be alone and on the streets by now, her name disgraced and she'd be shunned for her father's crimes.

Even though one could argue she did not deserve her father's money after what she had tried to do to him—sending strangers to forcibly change his heart and ruin him and his business—there truly was no reason to sympathize with the man. With him gone, she now had her fate in her own hands: She had the company, wealth, and the power to disband of her fiancée. When considering all this, the young detective couldn't see any significant downside to her father’s death. It gave her a new chance. The one adult who had been tormenting her all these years would be finally be gone—all she had to do was to accept the situation and react accordingly.  

"Okumura-san…”, Akechi closes his eyes and looks a lot like he is suffering from a sudden headache, "It may sound harsh, but your father was a despicable human being who thought of himself as the only one who mattered—he wouldn’t have hesitated to use your extensive forehead as a stepping stone for his political career and order mental breakdowns on his competitors, having them meet the same fate as he did in the end. All I did was spare you of his evil, and this is how you thank me for it?”, is what Akechi would have loved to say but no, it is too soon to tell the truth just now. Despite her tragic fate, he still believes that corrupt adults like Okumura deserve to die—but of course, it is unwise to phrase it as such. Just a few more days of lying, and it would be done.

"I can only see this from an outside perspective, of course—", Akechi says instead, sadly casting his eyes to the side in perfection, "you may not know this, but I have been once in a situation quite similar to yours. I lost my mother at young age, after all. There is someone I hold responsible for this, and this is why I understand your situation quite well.” 

“Akechi-kun", Haru says, now seeming a bit upset with how she suddenly inhales the air deeply. "Why did you murder Ren-kun and my father?”

Akechi sighs. “Okumura-san, let’s not…” He sighs, shaking his head. Akechi’s gloved flat hand on the table’s surface curls into a fist. “As I said before”, Akechi insists, “I didn’t…”

“This is unacceptable”, Haru cuts him off with a whispers. “I have come for answers about your reasons and to hear you apologize. Y-you need to stop lying. Otherwise, I f-feel really angry."

Akechi shakes his head. “Honestly, I am unsure what you expect of me, Okumura-san”, Akechi says firmly, “That is all I can offer you. I fail to see any need to apologize to you.”

Suddenly, firmly, Haru stands up with the wooden chair loudly scraping against the floor and Akechi is slightly afraid that she’s about to make a public scene as she demands him “Tell me why—why he had to die”, a surge of anger forms in the pit of Haru’s stomach and forces itself up and out of her mouth as she looks at him in sheer, violent anger and says: “You _traitor_.”

It feels good, really good, to get that anger out after remaining quiet for so long, keeping these feelings inside herself. For Haru, facing the killer of her father, is a healing experience. It allows her to let go of the anger. This may sound strange, but Haru Okumura learns in this moment that forgiveness is not about the perpetrator, it’s about yourself. It’s about letting go of the chains that hold you back, so you can continue your life without grief and sadness: It is her kindness, her trust in humanity that keeps Haru going, and without this, she is unable to fight. All this didn’t bring back her father and her lover, but it does bring her back to a point where she can now see him differently before they will meet one last time.

“Even if you lie to me, I know what you are, and I will never forgive you for what you have done”, Haru tells him, and Akechi suddenly remembers that _desire for revenge changes people for the worst...,_ but then against all his expectations, suddenly, her eyes start watering up and her voice cracks as she suddenly pleads him, “But please, help us. Join our side again.” Haru touches her chest where her heart is and then says, “I… still believe in the good in you, Akechi-kun! I believe that you aren’t a bad person!”

Just for a few seconds, the café's chatter seems to die down for a bit, before everything returns to normal. Sitting there completely surprised, Akechi fails to believe what he just heard. He had feared she would make a public scene, but this is truly unexpected. He opens his mouth, closes it again, hesitating for several times, unsure how to respond. All the while, the Okumura girl looks him faithful and firmly in the eye, but unfortunately has a facial expression that irritates him—Misled is the wrong word for it, it could rather be described as ‘more stupid than the law allows’. Akechi feels second-hand embarrassment and asks her for time to think about her proposal.

“Okumura-san, I will try to think about what you said and try to understand better what lead us into this tremendous misunderstanding. For now… I think there is no use in continuing this conversation”, Akechi says politely but hurriedly, since emotional girls are very dangerous for his public image.

Haru looks at him in irritation, her heart still beating fast. Then she sits down and lets her hands fall into her lap. “…alright.”

“Well, if that’s all… Would you mind me leaving?”

“Please w-wait…” Haru closes her eyes, takes a deep breath. Then, she slowly sits back down. “There is something… I need to tell you, Akechi-kun”, Haru says. In her lap, her hands curl firmly into the fabric of her skirt. “Tomorrow… something will happen that might endanger your life.”

“I see”, Akechi says firmly. When nobody adds anything further, he gives a short, thankful nod. “Thank you for warning me, Okumura-san.” He stands, sensing the right moment to conclude their meeting.

“Akechi-kun…”, Haru says right before he leaves. Akechi stops one last time.

“Yes?“, he asks her.

“Please… become a better person”, Haru tells him. “Please… You need to promise.”

Akechi looks at her quietly, then without a word, leaves the café. In an alternate timeline, in an alternate future, where she would have continued her life without Ren’s help, she would have never been able to break out of her unwanted marriage, her dreams and wishes never becoming reality and her horrible life would continue, never escaping her hell; her tragic life's memories fragments of her graduating with no one to send her off, of her older self visiting her father’s grave; standing there alone, still hoping for her father’s murderer to become a better person one day.

Life, Akechi thinks as he leaves the café, is one big tragedy; and truly ironic.

 

 

 

 

11/16/20XX

**1 DAY LEFT UNTIL THE DEADLINE**

 

All remaining Phantom Thieves excluding Futaba are present at their secret final meeting at café Leblanc, window blinds shut, doors closed. They are gathered downstairs at one of the tables, an argand lamp is solemnly lighted. No other person has been admitted to Leblanc during their last meetings, with Sojiro, the owner of the café, closing the shop earlier than usual and acting as their gate keeper, just passing through from time to time to bring them food and coffee.

A lot has changed ever since Makoto has become their leader. Not only had their group policy turned a lot stricter and professional. They all had not, for the past weeks, had a single moment of leisure time, following Makoto’s decision to permanently stick together and spend their nights in the attic. While her sister Sae had always had insane expectations regarding her achievements in the past, it had now been time for her to discipline others in her leadership position. She had taken full control over their fitness training and diet to make sure they were at maximum strength during their Palace raids. Right now, they talk of one thing and another, of death as much as of movies, without passion and with noise. With the exception of Haru, who holds her peace, they are haranguing rather at hap-hazard into the rainy night. When it's gotten late and they have gone through the plan one last time, Makoto stands up, brushing dust off her skirt, and everyone listens.

“W-well. This is our final meeting. I don't know what to say, really”, Makoto eventually starts, a slight tremble in her voice. “We’ve almost reached the deadline. The election is in two days. This is the moment we’ve been working for so hard. Thank you for bearing with me for these past two weeks. I know it was hard—…but it will be worth it. This will be our final battle, and this time, we’ll win.”

Five exhausted faces return her gaze. They’re all pale, some of them patched up, tired, dark shadows under their eyes and over-tiredness clearly showing on their faces. The reality of what had happened to them, the loss of their best friend, Futaba’s failed suicide attempt, the dangers they are constantly facing in every moment now, had changed them. All of them had held strong feelings towards Ren, and the slow acceptance of his death had their youthful minds matured. This wasn’t a game anymore. But with this maturity, something else had changed—there was no spark, nor divine lightning flash in their eyes; the memory of the last time they sat like this too close, the last time they decided on a big gamble. What will the outcome be this time? No one knows.

“Is it really going to work?”, Ann asks quietly, voicing the last concern. “I’ve never felt… so unsure about anything my whole life.”

“The plan is in place“, Makoto says resolutely. “We have already agreed unanimously that we will stick to it.”

“Still… I wish there was an alternative”, Haru says, eyes to the ground. “Using those weapons... we’re risking not only our own lives, but also the lives of others, particularly of inexperienced amateurs. I'm still wondering… Is it right what we’re doing...?”

“We have no other choice than to rely on them”, Makoto tells her firmly. “Navigating the Palace has been disastrous for us so far, and I am certain that the final battle will be even worse. If we get the chance to kill the Palace owner with our new equipment, we cannot afford to hesitate.” She closes her eyes. “This is our only chance. For some unknown reason, Akechi has refrained from targeting us so far, but the moment we send the calling card and fail to defeat Shido, it will be over for us.”

“Yeah, but… there’s still another way”, Ann says, notably calmer and more solemn than usual, her usual cheerfulness overshadowed. “I mean, uhm… it's just that…”

“It’s because he contacted us”, Makoto finishes her sentence. “Are you for real?”, Ryuji barks in. “And you believe what he said!?”

“N-no… that’s not the case.”, Haru says very quietly, very worried, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “But… Don’t you think it’s really strange that he never tried to come after us? He always seemed persistent in trying to convince that politician over the phone that we shouldn’t be killed… Maybe he wasn’t… wasn’t lying when he said he doesn’t want to do us any harm.”

“How can you be so effin’ naïve? He was totally just trying to act all innocent about it!”, Ryuji says, close to losing his temper.

“But couldn’t it be that he really tries to go against that politician?”, Ann tries to defend her. “What he said about the conspiracy was true, after all. We figured that much out in the Palace. Also, wasn’t it strange that we didn’t fight Akechi’s Shadow in the Palace? You would have thought he would be on the cruiser if he really was collaborating with him—”

“And we also know that that man has a whole lotta more info about the metaverse than we have”, Ryuji growls. “He could manipulate the Palace as much as wanted, right?”

“That’s not the point. And it would be really helpful if you would finally stop shouting at me and treating me like some dumb idiot like you’ve been doing for the past two weeks!”, Ann spits back and so forth. Conversations between the Thieves are subject to angry tumults these days—it’s a game and an uproar as much as a conversation, and sometimes Makoto just lets them blow off some steam, but it’s when the argument between Ryuji, Ann and now Morgana seems close to escalation that in the midst of the uproar, Ryuji, thoroughly angry, is reasoning and contradicting at the top of his lungs, when—

“SHUT UP”, Makoto all at once terminates the quarrel. Instantly, the café falls silent. "Haru, go on."

“I’m still wondering… if he was right all this time”, Haru says timidly. “I’m so sorry, but as of late, I can’t help but think that…” Haru seems to struggle to maintain eye contact with the team as she says, “Akechi-kun may have been right from the start. I-if it hasn’t been for us, for the Phantom Thieves… all of this would never have happened…”

“But Haru!”, Ann exclaims, scandalized. “He _used_ us. We didn’t know there were people using the change of hearts to blame us for their murders. How should we have known? It wasn’t our fault at all!”

“The Phantom Thieves aren’t just. Akechi is right.”, Haru says sadly. “He was the only one back then who mentioned the unforeseen risks of a change of heart. It’s something we should have considered much earlier. What if he has always been trying to subtly give us a clue of what was going on, tried to stop us since he knew about the conspiracy? I can’t help… but feel like we might be wrong about him. Even if it wasn’t our intention to hurt someone… If it hadn’t been for us, our enemies would never have gotten this far…”

“It’s too late to change anything about that now”, Makoto says, unwavering. “It is true that we have been used this whole time, and now we have to accept what happened and manage the consequences. And this means, we have no choice but to rely on violence.”

“Listen, Haru. We don’t know what happened to Ren, but we have to assume the worst”, Morgana says. “A lot of what we saw in the Palace, and what we heard over his phone, hints that Akechi might have killed him in that interrogation room and tried to frame it as a suicide. Him acting like he’s the victim could be just another attempt to trick us. From what we know, there’s even the possibility that it was Akechi causing the mental shutdowns.”

“But we don’t know for sure”, Haru says desperately. “And… if we really proceed with our plan tomorrow, we don’t know what might happen to him. And… I don’t know if I can live with…”, she whispers, “murdering a human being.”

“Haru…” Makoto, whose red eyes are not fixed on anyone, and who seems to be gazing at space, replies, without glancing at Haru:— “It would be very unwise to forgive him. He might be the one who killed your father.”

Haru stubbornly stares at the ground. “I think it’s n-not that simple. Sympathy isn’t forgiveness. I’ve thought about which fate Akechi deserves for a while now. At first, I felt nothing but disbelief about him, then sadness, emptiness, denial, fear, anger; lastly, numbness. Now, all I feel is just… a blur. But I still feel sympathy toward him. Not for his horrid crimes, but… for his flawed humanity. I want to keep hating him, but I can’t. I know many people would despise me for my sympathy, but...”

“You aren't wrong, Haru”, Morgana says sadly. “You're human, exquisitely human. It’s the nature of empathy to neutralize hatred. This is the way humans were created. If not, humanity wouldn’t be able to survive. The labyrinths of the human heart are often difficult to navigate, as you should know by now.”

Ryuji scoffs. “You’re kiddin’, right? That's bullshit. I’m just so mad that you would even think for a single moment about Akechi’s effin’ ass”, he snaps, “the guy who KILLED—”

“Am I so wrong to feel this way about Akechi-kun?”, Haru says desperately. “Should I return to rehearse in my mind, again and again, how I would execute Akechi if given the chance? Should I feel as people demand that I feel? Am I wrong for feeling sympathy?” She jumps from her seat. “It was Shido who killed my father. All the shadows in his Palace have hinted that he was the one who ordered the killings.”

“Haru, that’s-“

Haru looks at Makoto, a hint of desperation in her eyes. “A-and I think… that you have changed, Mako-chan…! I think you’ve become very cold, because the way it sounded, I just… I have troubles believing that Akechi is really capable of what we accuse him of.”, and her childlike voice escapes her lips in a high-pitched hiccup as she can’t hold back the tears anymore. “I think that Ren might still be alive…!”—

“That’s enough”, Makoto says harshly, and this is like a breath of icy air. It’s the same harsh voice, the same brow dimmed and wrinkled, the same free, wild, and vacillating glance as Joker’s when he had given them orders. All cease talking. They feel that something is on the point of occurring.

“If you’re having second thoughts about tomorrow’s battle, I don’t need you on the team”, Makoto says while turning around, calm, voice ice cold. “The same goes for everyone in this room. If you’d rather continue playing along by the rules of some rotten adult, if you really want to soil everything he taught us and go back to the useless self you’ve been before—then quit. RIGHT THERE is the door.”

A deadly silence follows, interrupted only by a single, heartbreaking sob breaking from Haru’s throat.

“Haru…”, Ann murmurs sadly, and Makoto turns and approaches her, then grabs Haru by the collar of her pink turtleneck cardigan and violently pushes her forward. “THERE IS NO TIME FOR TEARS”, she yells at Haru, her military voice vibrating through them all. After that, for several seconds, it’s just Makoto’s angry breathing, bottled up emotions releasing all at once yet again, everyone else too shocked to move, Haru hanging helplessly in her shaking grasp, eyes wide open—too scared to even cry.

“I won’t let you guys mess this up again”, Makoto says, her voice trembling with barely controlled anger. “There is evil in our world that must be eradicated, without mercy, without looking back. There are times when sympathy and forgiveness are sinful luxuries. You had enough time to be weak and forgiving when everything was alright, back when this was all just a game to you all. But this—is—serious!”, she shouts at Haru. “We are the only ones given these powers, this knowledge, and this means we have a mission: To eradicate the conspiracy, to stamp out any vestige of it—these people will destroy this country and weren’t above killing people, even minors to gain power. We cannot allow even the smallest particle of them to survive, or to poison us as well, or we will become their conspirators, in action or in silence—”, Makoto then notices that Ann is pulling at her arms, trying to get her away from Haru. She releases Haru with a violent shove, then swirls around, short brown hair flowing angrily. “And that’s especially true for you!”,—she howls at Ryuji.

“What?!”

“How can you be so reckless and act aggressively in school, beating up your classmates and getting yourself detention? Conspicuous conduct is something we cannot afford anymore—and you”, she yells and grabs Ann by the collar of her white shamrock sweater, shaking her once, harshly. “How can you be so _naïve_?!”

“M-Makoto, please”, Ann whines, and Haru tries to hold her back. “Mako-chan, what has gotten into you…”

“Let her go!”, Morgana cries while Yusuke, who has remained mute up to that point, breaks the silence and addresses this debate:—“Our leader is right. We have no time for weaknesses. If we don’t take up this gamble, our chances of stopping the crimes will be reduced to rubble.”

“All your crying isn't going to bring him back.”, Makoto says, calmer now. When nobody says anything, Makoto lets go of Ann. It’s then, when Makoto looks at her teammates, that she suddenly feels a strong force in her, a force of clarity—so strong she has to clench her fists hanging next to her body to fight back against that force from ripping her heart out and suddenly all her doubts are fading. “Tomorrow will not just be our biggest battle. It’s going to be the most important day of our lives.”, she tells them, her voice now stable, standing right in front of the Phantom Thieves flag, pinned against the wall as their rebellion, Makoto their rebellion leader. She closes her eyes while she’s suddenly perfectly clear and aware of the words that must be said now.

“All comes down to tomorrow, and either, we heal as a team, or we're going to crumble. All of us are struggling right now. I know that. Ren was… Ren was dear to me, too. He picked me up when I had reached the lowest point and brought me back, gave me back my sense and life. Naturally, losing Ren has changed us. We all had strong bonds with him, loved him in all possible forms. Without him, we need to make up for our weakness by becoming much more aggressive and determined in our actions. Only as a team we are able to defeat our enemies. We need to do anything it takes to stop the conspiracy and get back at the ones who took him from us. Ren is gone to glue us together, but our joint hatred for the enemy unites us in our hearts, and makes us invincible.”

“And now, we can stay here, watch Akechi how he sets up the whole country against us, and gets away with it with a big smile on his face, or we can fight our way back into the light. We can climb out of this hell... But I can't make you do it.”

“But I can remind you of the look in his eyes. He sacrificed himself for this team, because he knew when it comes down to it, we were going do the same for him. That's a team, and either we heal now, as a team, or we will die as individuals.”

Something has changed. Makoto Niijima feels a source of power coming from her friends, all of them looking at her now the same way they had looked at Ren. The pain is visible in Haru’s eyes, tears rolling down her rosy cheeks like diamonds. 

“I’m sorry, Mako-chan”, Haru whispers barely audibly, touching her throat. “And… thank you. I was wrong. We… we have to do it…”, she wipes her tears away, then adds in a whisper, _“for him.”_

“That’s right”, Ann says, voice a bit raspy. “Let’s stop fighting. We’ll stay together till the end, just like he did.”

“That's what being a Phantom Thief means, that's all it is”, Morgana suddenly says serious, and everyone nods, the fire back in their eyes when they look at each other. “Our hearts only beat in unison.”

“I ain’t scared of tomorrow”, Ryuji says, cracking his knuckles. “Whatever it is that’s waiting for us—bring it on.”

Makoto breathes in in relief. Now that she has successfully reawakened their will to fight, back to work. “Now there is just one thing left to do. We still need to find a way how to send the calling card. But we must make sure that he sees it, as he’s possibly aware of the mechanics of a change of heart due to Akechi spying on us in the Casino. Any suggestions how we will proce...?"

All of their hearts stop for a second when there are sounds at the doorsteps, interrupting their conversation and then the insistent jingle of the bell rings out.

 _“Upstairs! Hide!”_ , Morgana sputters, but Makoto is frozen to ice, the sound of the doorbell and the door being unlocked alone is enough to make Makoto’s heart skip a beat in anticipation as she turns around, and despite her fears takes a step towards the door because she won’t wait another day this time, she’s going to confess her feelings to him in front of all of—

“Someone talking about me?”

Makoto’s jaw drops open, and the military stance dissolves from one second to the next. “Fu…” A tiny orange spectated bowl bumps into her chest when Futaba hugs her.  “Fu… Futaba!”, Makoto exclaims, holding her tightly and giving her cheek a quick kiss. “Y-you’re back from the hospital… how are you…”, losing that train of thought, she just holds her close and breathes in the girl’s comfortable smell. "Thank God..."

“You’re terribly late for the team discussion”, Yusuke says. “Shut up Inari.”, Futaba tells him and hugs Yusuke next. Yusuke returns her hug in a clumsy, warm embrace. “Ouch! T-t-t-too tight!”

“After Futaba attempted to escape the shared hospital room by climbing out of the window seven times, the doctor said her physical condition is well enough for her to go back home,” Boss says, closing his umbrella and putting down a bag with Futaba’s necessities, locking the door again behind him. The wrinkles on his worried-looking forehead have grown smoother. “Under the condition that she immediately meets her friends and is served some curry.”

“That’s … wonderful.”, Makoto smiles. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

“You really need to gain some weight”, Yusuke tells her, still having Futaba in his arms.

“Rich coming from you”, Futaba grumbles. “You’re the stick boy here.”

“Alright, that’s enough hugging for now”, Boss tells them somewhat annoyed.

Futaba then proceeds with hugging everyone, a cheerful, relieved atmosphere warming up the café that hasn’t been felt in a long time. “Good to see you out of the hospital, again.”, Ryuji tells her slightly awkwardly, smiles and gives her a brotherly hug, “But man, you sure look like E.T., you know that?”—“Oh shut up you monkey.”

“It’s good to have you back on the team, Futaba.”, Haru beams while hugging her warmly, together with Ann. “Yeah, welcome back!”, Ann says. “Great that you’re doing better. You… really got us worried.”

“And you missed quite a lot of work, young lady”, Morgana tells her. “I know. But I’m ready to join you guys for tomorrow”, Futaba says.

“Fu… Futaba, are you sure you’re going to join?”, Makoto asks her worriedly, protectively. “Isn’t it… too soon to…”

“You mean… because I tried to kill myself, after they showed his face on TV?”, Futaba mumbles, and nobody really knows how to respond to that.

“How about you take off the jacket and take a seat, for starters”, Sojiro tells her. “Here, I’m getting you guys some coffee. You probably have a lot to talk about.”

After Boss has disappeared in the kitchen to get some leftover curry for the group, a strange atmosphere falls over them as they wait for Futaba’s explanation of her suicide.

"I'm really glad to have you back on the team, Futaba", Makoto tells her. "But are you really ready to join us physically for the mission tomorrow?"

"I need to", Futaba says, 

“Welp, here’s the story…", Futaba says timidly, taking a seat on one of the bar stools. "I didn’t actually want to die, like, right then. I just thought, after listening to Akechi’s call, and then the announcement—yup, that’s it—they’re here any minute now, they're gonna kill me like they killed my mom. So I, uh… thought it was a good idea to, uh, practice for the worst case, so I tried to knot some cables together to see if I could hypothetically kill myself last-minute if, you know, uh… the police would show up right now. Because I’d rather be, uh… faster than them, you know. I was like 57% sure the cables would snap immediately, but uh, turns out I got the other 43%...”

“Y-you were… practicing!”, Makoto repeats in horror, then turns around agitatedly to see Yusuke sit at the counter, already eating curry. “How can you eat in a moment like this?!”, she snaps at him in disbelief and Yusuke almost drops his spoon in surprise.

 “I… I apologize”, Yusuke says in confusion. “Futaba already explained the circumstances of the accident over the phone. I… I simply happened to be worried so much that I haven’t eaten in days.”

“His belly was growling so loud earlier we mistook it for a thunder struck”, Morgana says from Futaba’s lap. They laugh, and even Makoto eases into the laughter. She even manages a smile, feeling like an idiot. Haru has gotten up and pulls her into a soft, loving embrace which she returns, using the back of her hand to wipe her tears of happiness away in slight embarrassment. “I’m just… so glad that you’re doing better now, Futaba.”

“Yeah, uhm…”, Futaba says, “I kind of… was close to giving up again, but… I’m better now. And it’s mostly thanks to Akechi...”

“Huh?”

“Uh, well…”, she blankly stares into space, fidgeting restlessly. “You know… I made a promise list some time ago. And… There was one promise missing that I made, but kind of never wrote down. It was a promise I made to Ren…” Futaba bites her lip. “The last time he hung out with me, I told Ren I wanted to find out what happened to Mom… and I promised him that I will never ever forgive the guy who triggered her mental shutdown. Somehow, I kind of forgot about that… for a while…” Futaba clenches her fists. “But… when Akechi wrote in the chat today that this politician guy stole my Mom’s research… And that politician probably even was responsible for her death… I realized that it was the same thing as before! They made me feel guilty for crimes I didn't commit, I once again fell into their trap!”

“You effin’ guessed it”, Ryuji growls.

“I want to make that politician pay, even if it’s the last thing I’ll ever do”, Futaba grumbles. “And I want to mentally destroy Akechi for what he did... I already started back in the hospital with Ryuji’s help.”

“That’s right.”, Ryuji grumbles. “We remind him every day over his phone what a little cunt he is.”

“Wait. You’re _texting_ Akechi?”, Makoto says in horror. “You’re communicating with the enemy, and you didn’t think it would be necessary to discuss this in the group first?”

Startled by her harsh tone, Ryuji and Futaba suddenly look like beaten dogs who just got scolded by their mom. “Communicating may be a bit of a stretch”, Futaba mumbles.

“Do we have any new evidence about Akechi, other than those recent calls with Shido?”, Morgana asks, and Futaba shakes her head. “Nu-uh. All he uses his phone for are work related calls, some messages, checking social media and playing solitaire. _Especially_ playing solitaire. He does that for hours sometimes. Other than that he just googles himself about 59 times a day and spends hours looking at images of himself online.”

“We all need to stop communicating with him. Block his number if you haven’t done so. We can’t let him manipulate us any longer.”, Makoto says, and Haru averts her gaze with a blush. “Anyways, so, about that calling card discussion I overheard earlier”, Futaba’s eyes gleam, and it’s good to see her again in her usual spirits. “I used all this time to think of a way how to deliver the most epic calling card in existence...”

Like so often, they depend on the first chance word, and Futaba’s idea is just the necessary impulse for them to complete their final plan, the spirit of each is sovereign, suffices to open the field to the unexpected. When everything is agreed upon, Makoto Niijima knows that with her fierce and penetrating eloquence, Ann’s flaming enthusiasm, Ryuji’s dash, Haru’s money, Morgana’s dedication, Yusuke’s eye for detail, Futaba’s science, a sort of electric spark takes fire nearly everywhere at once. All hands to work. This is well. As Makoto walks towards their banner, she passes the whole situation, the  gravity of events in review in her mind.

“This is it, guys. We’re going to continue the legacy of the Phantom Thieves.”, Makoto tells them, voice firm, gaze dark. “It’s what Ren would do if he was here. Get ready for our final battle. We are going to change Shido’s heart, and bring Akechi to justice.”

“For Ren”, Morgana says. Everyone nods.

Before they leave for the night, Ann stays behind and pulls Makoto into an embrace, her big boobs squished flush against Makoto’s smaller ones. “Thank you, Makoto”, Ann whispers to her, “without you, I … would have given up already."

 

 

***

 

 

A quarter of an hour later, café Leblanc is deserted. All Phantom Thieves are gone, spending the last night each in his own direction, each to his own task. Makoto is the last to leave, and there is one thing left to do. Standing at the top of the stairs, she runs her hand along the dark wood of the handrail, the memory fresh in her mind how she had stood here for the first time. Makoto Niijima realizes that this would probably be the last time she would be in the attic.

Boss, who has been washing up the plates and cups, looks up to her from the bottom of the stairs. “Are you going to leave, miss student council president? I’m gonna lock up the store.”

“Yes, I…”, she says, her gaze wandering from Boss back to the attic, “I know it’s late, but… would you… mind waiting for a few minutes, please? It’s just… It’s a bit messy here. I’d like to tidy up the room a little before I leave.”

“Sure”, he tells her without any questions asked. He's a good man. Before he leaves, Boss hesitates at the door. “Uhm, wait. Before you go… Lemme ask you one question, thought... since… you know—Futaba’s been treating you kind of like an older sister, right?”

“Yes?”, Makoto asks attentively.

Boss’ glance seems to darken just a bit and he shoves his hands into his pocket. “That guy, Yusuke, right...? He’s come to visit Futaba every single day at the hospital, watched her even in her sleep.”, Boss says, wrinkling his nose. “They get along well, don’t they.”

“Uhm—well… I suppose so?”, Makoto says, slightly amused at what Boss is implying. “It seems Yusuke has currently taken over Ren’s role of being a big brother for her.”

“That boy doesn’t have a family, does he?”, Boss says grimly. “So, he’s... planning on starting one?”

“Uhm…”, Makoto scratches the back of her neck. “W-well, I suppose Yusuke-kun has been raised with rather traditional values, so… he strikes me as someone who’d want to start a family and have kids in the future, yes.”

“What’s he gonna do after high school, be an artist?” Boss clicks his tongue and shakes his head in disapproval. “There’s no money in that. How’s he gonna feed her and the children if he can’t even feed himself?”

Makoto hides the slightest hint of a chuckle behind her hand. “You may be right.”

“Ah, well… I suppose teenagers can’t be stopped when their hormones are running wild.” Boss mumbles and lifts his hands in resignation as he makes for the door. “Anyways, take your time. I’ll wait outside, 'n have a smoke.”

Makoto notices that she can see her breath in the cold air while waiting until the sound of Sojiro’s steps has disappeared with the distant jingle of the doorbell, and then, it is silent, and she is standing alone in the café. Hesitantly, she turns around and unhurriedly looks around the cold attic. Dust particles flitter in the air all around, disturbed by her movement. It's dusty, nobody seems to have bothered with cleaning up up her since Ren's been gone, but it has always been like that. The air smells of dust and old wood and coffee, a familiar smell she has learned to associate with warmth and the feeling of belonging. It had definitely felt warmer though when she had been here last time, with Ren. But somehow, she can still sense his presence, as if he has been here, just a minute ago.

Part of her feels like a stalker, an intruder, but then again, it’s not like Ren would have minded it that much. In the far corner of the attic she can see the shelf filled with a collection of gifts Ren has collected since he had moved to Tokyo almost a year ago. Makoto wonders what will happen to these souvenirs now. She imagines Boss would just leave them there, some of the things in the shelves sitting and lurking in the dark for years, the Choco Fountain never to be used again, the Ramen Bowl, the I <3 Tokyo Shirt, a Swan boat, all forgotten and worthless plastic now with no one left to treasure these memories. “Oh.”, Makoto says in surprise when she spots the baseball mascot she's given Ren in Dometown, and there is also the Tiki keychain she has given him in Hawaii... And there… there is also the Shumai throw cushion she has bought him at Chinatown. She hadn’t given it that much thought back then, but Ren had put it on this shelf on display and had guarded it so well... all these objects seem to have achieved a status akin to holy relics now. Even though she has always thought it was really cute and had originally wanted it for herself, Makoto can't bring herself to take the cushion away from the collection, and leaves it there with the rest.

Wandering around the room, Makoto moves closer to the storage shelves on the left, pulling out one of the cardboard boxes with her foot. She opens it. Ren’s clothes are kept inside. Is this supposed to be his wardrobe? Makoto has to chuckle a bit at that. He had always been not that well kept together, but somehow, his charisma had always been enough to cast a spell over whoever he chose to spend time with.

Makoto kneels down to reach into the box, pulling out a random piece. It's Ren’s dark blazer that he had worn in winter. Her heart rate skyrockets as her fingers frantically feel along the fabric. It feels high quality and nice in her hands, it must be a good brand. It still has his smell on him. Makoto folds the blazer neatly and puts it back into the cardboard box. She stands up again. Standing in the middle of the room, she straightens out her skirt, brushing some dust off her black tights as her gaze next goes to the plant. It looks sad, hanging down, tan splotches on the foliage, dropping its dried up leaves. Who was going to take care of the plant from now on?

Deciding to not follow that train of thought, Makoto moves on to the desk. There is an unfinished lock pin, together with Ren's diary and several books he probably had already finished reading: _The Essence of Fishing, Reckless Casanova, The Alluring Dancer._  One of them is borrowed from the school library and clicks her tongue. She should bring these back, it must be long overdue. When she picks up the book  _The Great Thief,_ a bookmark falls out and without thinking, Makoto puts it back inside but then her hand freezes. Ren had only gotten to read the first half. But there was no point in leaving the bookmark, because he was never going to read the rest. It is this view, the remaining pages unread that make Makoto so sad: that sense of a life rudely interrupted, without notice, with things started but not finished. That's what brings the tears back, hand clasped over her mouth. Her hand is shaking now so much she puts the books back on the table, leaves it.

She shouldn't stay much longer. While aimlessly wandering around, Makoto makes a small sound of surprise when her eye catches something else underneath the bed cloth: Ren’s bed isn't a real bed, it's just an old dusty mattress lying on top of several large wooden boxes. How has she never noticed? Pulling one of the boxes out from under the mattress, Makoto reaches into it to the bottom and finds a paper shopping bag and several thick bundle of banknotes. Makoto counts the bills quickly. It's 300,000 yen in cash. Makoto shakes her head with a smile. He had saved this much money and hidden it under his bed, probably to buy new equipment for the team, had never gone to the bank, been too cautious of the questions they might ask while all the while bearing the whole risk of the team. Always, always had he taken the largest part of responsibility, had always put the safety of the others first. That had just been his kind nature.

Hesitantly, Makoto sits down on the bed and reaches into the shopping bag and finds a small black box along with a receipt...

"Thank you, Ren", she whispers. "I have something for you, too."

Childishly, irrationally, Makoto's heart picks up its pace as she can't resist caressing the black surface of the small box with the tips of her fingers, feeling each inch of its quality, then opens it to see its contents, and when she sees what's inside her view becomes too blurred to inspect it any further and before the grief would overwhelm her, Makoto decides it's time to say goodbye now.

Bought months in advance already, Makoto takes out the wrapped up wrist watch, her Christmas gift for Ren. As if waiting for him to come back, the wrist-watch in its pretty gift box now rests on his bed.

“Merry early Christmas, Ren”, Makoto whispers. “I’m sorry, but I… I won’t forgive you… for breaking my heart like that.”

She sits there, alone in the dark attic, for a long moment, thinking about Ren. Thinking about his smile. His smell. What kind of husband he would have been. How many children they would have had. The could have beens. The paths untraveled. But then it is enough. The path has been closed. It's time to move on.

Then Makoto stands, picks up the books and her bag. Clearing out Ren’s room for the final time has brought a certain serenity over her. Before she leaves, her final gaze lasts upon the Phantom Thieves banner. The time has come to say goodbye to Ren. But when Makoto turns at the stairs and leaves the attic behind, that word does not make it past her lips.

 

 

 ***

 

 

The day is gray and bleak, black clouds hovering low in the sky, thunder rumbling in the distance. The dreary rain had been pouring for the past few days with little break. The wind coming from the north twirls the rain around, uncomfortably spraying in Makoto Niijima’s face. She passes by a graffiti sprayed across a building saying “KILL AKECHI GORO“, crossed out in a contrasting color and replaced with “KILL THE PHANTOM THIEVES”.

_"Fellow workmen, tomorrow is election day and you are ... _a grand undertaking such as social reform is beyond a group such as the ..._ make that natural course of action a reality, I humbly ask that you pledge your vote for me—Masayoshi Shido...”_

The election is tomorrow, and interest in the results is peaking to an insane extent, with all media platforms substituting election news for their usual commercials, office workers hurrying home from the subway eager to watch election predictions; excitedly chatting away, even the young seem to be interested in the results this time, watching TV screens in store windows and checking their phones for updates.

The wind picks up in the subway and there is the loud rumble and the usual screeching sound as a train passes, tooting, whistling, screaming, the air shaking as the airstream rushes through Makoto’s short hair. Makoto looks down at her polished uniform shoes. She’s standing right behind the safety line, but nevertheless, whenever she stands like that and a train passes through, it had always felt to her like one step from death.

“Well, Niijima-san”, she hears his voice beside her when the train has passed and disappeared in the tunnel. “Shall we end our little games of hide and seek? It’s gotten a bit tiring, wouldn’t you agree?”

Makoto stares right on into the distance to not make it too obvious they’re conversing.

“Stop following me around”, Makoto hostilely whispers back. “Your constant stalking is getting on my nerves. I might report you to the police.”

“Stalking? Nothing of the sort. I just happened to be passing by, and got a minute to spare”, Akechi says painstakingly innocent. “It's but a nice coincidence. I wanted to speak to you anyways.”

Makoto stares down at the rails without bothering looking up at him. “As I said, there is nothing…”

“All I want is to talk”, Akechi tells her, voice low and insistent. “Let’s meet the others at Leblanc. I won't do you any harm. I promise I will come alone.”

“Why would we believe you”, Makoto huffs. “Let's see... Leblanc only has one door, which is both the exit and entrance. How convenient, isn’t it. You may come and arrest all of us with a brigade of police waiting outside.”

“If this was my intention, there would have been countless opportunities to do so.” Akechi scoffs. “Niijima-san. Don’t you want to hear my reasons? Why I had to deceive you? All I want is to bring him to justice before it's too late. We urgently need to collaborate in this final battle. The truth will be brought to court afterwards, and I won’t hesitate to confess my role in all of this. You may as well record my confession beforehand, before we tear down his Palace.” He hesitates, then adds empathetically, “I assume you could need an additional team member anyways. You lost your persona powers, haven’t you?”

“I am not negotiating with you. We don’t need your help.”, Makoto says indifferently. “We already cleared the Palace.”

Why would she tell him this, Akechi thinks. It’s an obvious lie.

“All that’s left is sending the calling card, and then you will...”

“You stole Sakura-san’s heart too, didn’t you? Where do you think she would be now if you hadn’t?”, Akechi asks her solemnly. “Let me rephrase my proposal. I am in urgent need of your help, and I have been this whole time. I beg you, frankly. My life is in danger. Isn’t that what Phantom Thieves do? Helping others in need?”

Another train is passing by, half swallowing his words. Makoto stays in place for another, long moment, something unreadable in her eyes. The doors of the train open and masses of people get outside and inside the train. Makoto waits until the train leaves and the platform is empty and silent again. The girl feels no desire to interact further with Akechi; but there is another desire burning in her as she turns towards him, completely deadpan.

“Spare your breath, Akechi-kun. I don’t trust you”, Makoto says bitterly. “You had your chance, and there is only one thi...”

“Then let me prove it to you”, Akechi tells her. “Don’t send the calling card yet. I can prove to you that I’m trustworthy, but you need to—"

With her open hand Makoto loudly smacks him across the face. The pop ricochets over the empty platform.

“That’s for trying to mess with Haru“, Makoto whispers sharply, voice bursting forth with a vibration which comes from a quiver of her very being:—“and for _FUCKING_ interrupting me again.”

The smack had taken Akechi by surprise. Standing there motionlessly, he does not react in any way, other than staring down at her in surprise, then gently touching his cheek when the pain starts to sting.

“That was quite harsh.”, Akechi says in slight bafflement.

“Nothing you could say… could change my mind.”, Makoto says under her breath. “And the next time I see you, no matter where and when, I’ll drag you into the next back alley, then punch you in the face with my brass knuckles, then I'll break your knees, your wrists, your bones… then rip out your guts and strangle you with them.”

Akechi makes a low sound. “That wasn’t a very pleasant thing to say, Niijima-san.” He gives her a false look of hurt. “But this nothing new, to be honest. With the exception of him, you and your friends have always been acting rude and distrustful towards me.” He closes his eyes, brows furrowed. “I wonder if he would have given me a chance, if he was here. I know that the means I have chosen for my bigger plans weren't without sacrifices, but I do remember that Amamiya-kun always tried to see the good in people, didn’t he? There was no such thing as a lost cause for him.”

Their eyes meet and in that moment, not unlike her awakening, Makoto’s emotions are no longer hidden under the robot-like mask of an amenable exemplary honor student. The anger in her blood is evident in the crease of her lovely brow and the down-curve of her tense peach colored lips, but her eyes, her eyes show her soul: They are a dark pool of thick blood, a restless ocean of stubborn determination, the flames in her vibrant blood red eyes ignite her whole being.

“Maybe you’re right”, Makoto says. “But Ren is gone, now.”

There’s a pause where they just stand there, side by side, staring at each other predatory, a strong rush of wind picking up as the next train arrives, the only words she longs and fears to hear from Akechi lingering in the air but never coming until the uncertainty becomes unbearable and Makoto turns his back on him to leave.

When Akechi looks after her, Makoto Niijima has already disappeared. Nobody ever got to see the look in her eyes right then as she walked away, but whoever had seen it would have known that all the beauty of the universe could not even hope to compete with this simple thing: Rebellion, rebellion that turned her eyes into orbs of restless fire, and whoever had seen it could clearly have read that she would fight to the very last tear of her life for him. She would not let the injustice of the world break her. She could cry, she could grief for her lost lover, but she would never let them take her true self from her. She would cling to it with anger, boiling within her. Anger that keeps her going.

Anger that made her powerful. Anger that made her beautiful.

 

 

 

 

11/17/20XX

**0 DAYS LEFT UNTIL THE DEADLINE**

  

Halfway down the stairs to the exit, Akechi distantly remembers the mystery DVDs that are overdue today. His phone rings. Akechi nonchalantly takes the call, a polite, mellifluous greeting on his lips which is quickly discarded when a “ _Where the hell are you?_ ” brimming with anger yells through the phone, causing Akechi to flinch unpleasantly.

“Um, at the Public Prosecutor’s Office!?”, Akechi answers bewilderedly, fingers closing more firmly around the phone. “Is something—“

_“Shut up and turn on the goddamn TV!”_

Akechi whirls around in alarm, noticing that people have gathered downstairs in front of the news flat screen hanging above the lobby. People seem to be freaking out, some of them trying to take videos with their smart phones, and with his phone pressed tight to his ear, Akechi rushes down the stairs. “What's going on?”, Akechi asks someone close by. “It’s a message from the Phantom Thieves”, the lady replies, “Seems like they hijacked the news channel.” Akechi blinks up at the giant screen. That Sakura girl... She could hack into an entire television broadcast?, his thoughts are racing while to the video message announces with a distorted voice, " _…the recent scandals of public figures, the accidents caused by psychotic breakdowns and mental shutdowns——these weren't caused by the Phantom Thieves. One man is behind every single instance... ...simply to satiate his own greed. That man was afraid his crimes would be exposed and shifted the blame on us. He even manipulated the police for that.”_

“Hey, who is that?”—“I think those are the Phantom Thieves…”

With his mouth slightly open, Akechi stares at the screen which now shows those cursed Phantom Thieves in their metaverse getup. There was no mistake: It was a calling card—delivered on live TV, to make sure Shido would see it.

 _“We only steal the hearts of criminals. But this asshole tried to dump what he did on us. That just shows he doesn't care about those victims at all! The identity of that cowardly man is—— The man behind it all is a current cabinet member, of all things. The Minister of State for Special Missions... Masayoshi Shido."_ Just in that moment, the stream stops—the video replaced by a flashing blue screen of death, then jumping back to the regular sport news, leaving the magnetized spectators in stunned confusion.

“What?”

“Did you hear that?”

“Shido? Do they mean _Representative_ Shido?”—followed by some scattered protests— “We don’t believe you, damn Phantom Thieves!”—“You damn terrorists, go turn yourselves in already!”

With the surrounding people progressively breaking into outrage over the video message, Akechi stands still frozen in place, heart pounding painfully in his throat. Despite the panic currently raging inside him, he manages a suffocated chuckle. ”Ah, this...”

 _“This is disastrous”,_ Shido is threatening to explode on the other end of the line. _"I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO KILL THEM."_

It seems Shido falls for the obvious trap. Knowing that defusing a bomb takes great skill and expertise, Akechi must defuse the situation. “It’s—obviously a bluff”, he quickly assures Shido through the phone, trying to sound as calm as possible. “A-as I said before, I checked security cameras and spied on them in the metaverse. It was pathetic to watch them, they couldn’t even make it past the first obstacles. This ‘calling card’ must be a fake—it’s laughable, really—there’s no way anyone would believe them…”

 _"You have to stop this slander immediately",_ Shido yells and Akechi hears him swear at him on the other end of the line followed by  _"and all this just because you’re incapable of silencing some goddamn kids in costumes!”_

“Sir, I…”

“Hey, they’re back!”

Akechi jerks around when the screen flickers and once again, shows the Phantom Thieves’ public message to the world: _“We are angry about the lies you’ve been making up about us, and about the murder of our leader—and that is why we will tell the world the truth today.”_

_“In fact, you will hear it from the traitor himself. This tape will prove the Phantom Thieves’ innocence and will prove to all of you who your true enemy is.”_

Akechi spaces out when there's another voice, and his heart stops and he can't follow or hear the words anymore but it doesn't matter, because he knows the words, since they are his own, recorded and played on live TV.

_“We could say he stole the guard's gun and committed suicide during his imprisonment... how about that?”_

“Huh?", he hears someone next to him say, "Isn't that…”

_“...and thus, the dangerous criminal responsible for the mass mental shutdowns shall end his own life.”_

The anger that starts bubbling up inside him turns Akechi's vision red. He distantly feels the urge to both pass out and vomit. Meanwhile, Shido on the other end emits a groan that gradually build up into a scream, _”What the hell did you…”_

_“We will strike back tonight, and with your help, we will be successful: You have to arrest Goro Akechi. He must not interfere. This might be your last chance to stop the corruption you're all aware of. Listen to your hearts, think about your close ones, about your families. With your help, we can bring down those who truly are behind the mental shutdowns, and end the killings once and for all.”_

_“As for you, Shido—we will give you one more chance: Resign your candidacy and turn yourself in to the police until 7:00 PM. Otherwise we will change your heart tonight.”_

The stream ends, now switching back to the regular news channel.

 _"I have to announce a public statement immediately",_ Shido groans. _"And you better te...”_

“My… my phone”, Akechi presses his eyes shut, regretfully whispering through clenched teeth. “I suppose it… might have been bugged.”

_“Wh—”_

Akechi ends the call, a bitter, antagonizing look in his eyes as he looks back up at the crowd, which has suddenly turned to face him.

“Akechi-kun, what does it mean?”, a prosecutor asks confusedly, “Wasn’t that... wasn't that _your_ voice?”

Standing there unusually lost, Akechi's eyes wander around the room, his heart aching under their questioning looks.

“It’s”, he attempts a chuckle, but then falls silent. He raises his hands and takes a cautious step backwards, as if expecting them to turn against him any minute. This has never happened to him before, and it’s the worst time imaginable for a black-out.

“Please excuse me”, he says under his breath, “I—m-must leave for now.”

It takes all his body control to upkeep his calm, collected composure in spite of his shaking knees as Akechi, without any other word, walks towards the exit and dramatically throws open the massive double-winged doors. Nobody stops him. As soon as the door is firmly shut behind him and he’s outside, with his heart pounding in his chest, Akechi is running, as fast as he can, into the heavy pouring rain.


	4. The Hunt

**12/7 (Flashback)**

 

“…that I _will_ capture the remaining Phantom Thieves, no matter what. I don't care if they come at me”, Akechi claims, raising his voice at the end to be heard over the spontaneous cheering and enthusiastic clapping in the crowded studio that follows. While he sits back down, Akechi smirks at the flattering applause which, given the usual lukewarm response of Japanese morning show audiences, is truly a compliment.

“My apologies, I didn't mean to get so worked up.”

“But still, Akechi-kun… Even if it’s amazing that you’ve been credited with the recent arrest”, the intrigued host says when the cheering finally dies down, sitting at the edge of his seat. “Wasn't their leader's suicide a let-down for you, given how long it took to apprehend him? I think if it were me, I would have collapsed from the shock!”, he says dramatically.

“True...”, Akechi says somewhat distractedly, his gaze dropping. “It did make me feel somewhat dizzy...”

As if lost in deep thought, he then falls silent for a moment, gloved hands absently curling in his lap while his eyes break away to search the packed studio, darting around the faces in the audience, not settling on anyone in particular... like the wandering eyes of a lively child having his first on-stage school play, excitedly searching for his family, wondering if there's parental pride in their smiles.

For a fleeting moment, there is a sliver of sadness entering his reddish brown eyes when he finds not a single familiar face in the crowd. He then blinks several times as if waking from sleep.

“Just a little though.”, he adds almost lightheartedly and gracefully recrosses his legs.

 

 

 

#  ****6:43 PM** **

 

 ** **THE wet pavement**** is glimmering with shiny reflections of Tokyo's neon signs and golden streetlights. A real rainstorm has developed, large rain drops coming down pattering every side at a very slanted angle, people walking with their heads low to keep the rain from hitting them in the face. With one arm, Akechi is sheltering his face from the rain while running as fast as he can, barely able to make out the street as he's splashing through the mud puddles. 20 minutes to the Diet Building on foot—that’s not nearly fast enough. 5 minutes by car, but with the current rush hour, it would be nearly 12 minutes... no, he needs something faster, something like—

"Hold on a moment", he demands over the sound of the pouring rain right before the police force motorcycle is about to pull back into traffic. The man slams on the brakes and slews to a screeching stop inches from the detective.

"What the—are you insane?"

"My apologies", Akechi pants, "I must ask you for a ride—please. It’s an urgent case—" 

"Get lost, kiddo, you’re blocking the street."

"Ah, excuse me—it’s me, Goro Akechi", Akechi introduces himself between quick breaths. "I’m in the middle of stopping an atrocious crime. It's an emergency—"

"Who? Never heard of him."

"You know—", Akechi blinks at him, doing his best to not feel offended, "the _Ace Detective._ I’ve... been... on TV several times _._ "

The incredulous officer breaks into a throaty laugh. "The what now? Detective, you say? Then show me your PI license, kid. You barely look older than a high school..."

"I have direct orders from Shido", Akechi cuts him off harshly, with an immediate effect. "Huh...?", the officer says.

"Or, would you rather talk to him yourself?" Akechi makes a show out of nonchalantly reaching into his uniform pocket to retrieve his phone. "I can call him right this instant if there is a problem..."

Puzzled for a moment, the officer suddenly seems very cautious as he stands there, contemplating. "No... it’s fine", he says finally and reluctantly steps off the vehicle, taking off the helmet. "Go ahead..."

Without hesitation Akechi jumps onto the motorcycle. "Very appreciated."

When he fails to kick-start the engine at the first attempt, the man skeptically steps forward. "Wait... You _know_ how to drive, right?"

“Not yet... I can ride a bicycle though", Akechi smirks, "Same principle." He kicks the starter again, this time the motorcycle roars beneath him, the officer's reply already lost in the screaming sound followed by the rage of a racing engine as he drives off the police station's premises with the siren shrilling and blue light flashing.

Akechi is accelerating down the main road. The motorcycle's headlight is pushing its way forward next to the van in front of him, and then he doesn't think twice before he forcefully hits the gas and speeds away. Cars swoosh past. Swerving at high speed into a narrow inlet, he manoeuvres the motorcycle with a great deal of precision around the flow of traffic. Tires hissing on the rain-wet street, buildings and flickering streetlights coast by as Akechi passes cars with quick, precise evasive manoeuvres, and does so surprisingly skillfully, until he approaches a bottleneck.

From behind him he hears the scream of tires. Due to the reduced vision he can't see enough to make a decision whether to turn or twist the throttle and speed ahead. There is no time left, so Akechi relies on pure intuition, yanks the vehicle hard left—and then he's rumbling down the sidewalk, narrowly dodging a vending machine. His body surges with adrenaline when for several seconds, all he can do is hold on, follow through with the sudden risky manoeuvre. Big drops are interminably battering against his body and mercilessly hammering his unprotected face, obscuring his vision. Next thing he knows he curves through the back roads of a shopping street, then races through a pedestrian zone at full speed, barely evading passengers. After several minutes and mastering several frighteningly outrageous situations, he makes a sharp curve on the wet pavement, pulls back onto the main street and finally has clear run. Akechi takes a deep breath and pushes forward. _He has to stop them, no matter what._

The spires of tall buildings surrounding the National Diet grow closer. Akechi rights himself in the seat and pushes the heavy machine ahead at full throttle. Sirens wailing and blue and red lights on top of the motorcycle flashing, Akechi speeds past the alley opening and reaches the National Diet; and while hitting the brakes with squealing tires, he already reaches for his phone.

 

 

#  ****6:59 PM** **

 

" _Attention—all personnel, please do not leave the building. Stay calm and wait for further instructions. I repeat, all personnel, please do not leave the building..."_

There is a swirl of white, red, blue flashing lights, sirens wailing. Two police cars ... three police cars. ... another four police cars are arriving, SIU units popping out while the officer-in-charge is shouting commands, ordering them to surround the premises with drawn weapons.

Right after the Phantom Thieves' announcement, the SIU had been alerted to immediately undertake a large-scale major operation in response to the ‘pending danger of a terrorist attack’. In a matter of minutes, there is a whole police operation positioned in front of the National Diet, the whole building completely surrounded. 

There are demonstrators, too, probably had already been there before, now riled up by the tumult and the presence of the detested police forces. The sound of speakers and cries of protest "DOWN-WITH-THE-PHANTOM-THIEVES", mixing with “DOWN-WITH-AKECHI-STOP-THE-CORRUPTION..." did not elicit an immediate response from the SIU units, but more of an initial paralysis, followed by docents of police forces trying to prevent the demonstrators from storming the off-limits premises. Far-left and far-right extremists infiltrate the demonstrations and the clash of opinions is threatening to escalate. Soon enough, hundreds of people are surrounding the National Diet. Meanwhile, the chief officer watches as even more back-up forces arrive. Even the buildings’ windows are filled with snipers, ready to shoot. The SIU Director must take this situation extremely seriously. In a matter of minutes, the National Diet Building has become a fortress.

And now they wait.

Meanwhile, the rain comes down like nails, hammering in huge drops on the police forces and the demonstrators, drenching them in seconds. Soon, the area is covered in misty fog. More minutes pass. The terrorists don’t show up.

"Sir", one of the squad leaders asks fretfully, "We’re awaiting orders. Who is our target?"

"You've seen them in the video message, haven't you?", the chief says grimly.

"Sure, but... It’s past 7. When and where are we expecting them to appear?"

"I would have told you that if I knew the answer", the officer-in-charge responds, "All we know is that they need to be in immediate physical proximity of the National Diet to take action... And that they're just a small group of rowdies. Even more reinforcements are on their way. They won’t stay a chance."

Several police units gasp when seemingly out of nowhere, Akechi materializes next to them out of thin air, stepping out of the misty fog and casually walking over to the positioned SIU units. "What the—!"

"How did you—!? Where did he—!?"

"Excuse me for a moment.", Akechi says quickly, paying them no mind while he takes out his phone and opens the Phantom Thieves group, rain drops splashing on his screen. 

Going the direct way through the front gate where the treasure was located? So they had indeed planned on cheating their way through the Palace. Akechi sighs and puts his phone away. Amidst the sound of siren, the reflections of blue and red lights are flashing over the imposing walls of the National Diet building while Akechi hurriedly forces his way through the barrier of police officers. All the while the rain is all but dashing down, the detective soaked to every pore in a matter of minutes; wet school uniform hugging his body tightly. The sheer amount of positioned forces is stunning—he had not expected them to mobilize all forces this quickly.

"Good evening", Akechi says breathlessly as he approaches the chief officer, recognizing the man from their metaverse operation during the casino heist. "Are you the officer-in-charge?"

"Yes", the man says, "The SIU Director has asked me to tell you to urgently report ba..."

"We must arrest them as soon as they appear", Akechi says quickly and extends his arm. "May I borrow your phone for a minute?" With a raised eyebrow but no questions asked, he hands Akechi his phone and Akechi dials a number, stepping away from the police force.

__"Where the hell are you?"_ _

"I'm in front of the National Diet. It’s completely surrounded."

__"What are you doing, standing there!? Why are you not in the metaverse?"_ _

"I was, but I was unable to locate them nor this alleged army, or the likes thereof", Akechi stresses, hand covering the mouthpiece to muffle his words. "It seems they’re either waiting for us to surrender, or for me to move off the premises. They might fear a direct confrontation.” Akechi bites his lip nervously. “What they said on the stream... I suppose it is all but a bluff to get us to surrender, but I cannot say for certain."

_"So they may actually have some sort of secret weapon?"_

"Well...", Akechi swallows. "There is a possibility, yes."

The man makes an exasperated sound. There is a small pause filled with nothing but the sound of the rain and another police siren blaring across the bridge close-by. Akechi shuts his eyes in self-pity. This is beyond stupid. Without their leader, the Thieves’ activities had become desperate and pathetic. At this point, it isn’t even possible to understand the motives behind their actions. As if a woman had planned all this. Akechi clutches the phone in his hand tightly while they both try to stay calm and think of something how to get out of this mess with minimal subsequent collateral damage.

 _"Those rats managed to lead us into a dead end",_ Shido says grimly.

“The uproar is substantial”, Akechi mutters, glancing at the demonstrators rumbling in front of the National Diet.

__"The timing is as worse as it gets... But we need to get rid of them."_ _

"I agree", Akechi says.

__"Can you do it?"_ _

"Yes", Akechi says without hesitation, voice perfectly calm.

__"Make it quick. Do it without raising further attention. We have to cover this mess up as much as we can."_ _

"It’s their word against ours", Akechi reasons. "They have nothing in their hands to prove anything. Plus, we have the whole nation backing us. They’re on your side—no one will believe them."

 _"I’ll let you and our friend handle this. I’ll announce a public statement for tomorrow morning_. _I’m counting on you."_ , he says, and then, _"Don't make me regret it."_

The call is ended. Akechi returns to the officer-in-charge.

"What’s the situation?"

"As it seems, the Phantom Thieves copped out. It’s highly thinkable that their plans were thwarted due to the police force acting this quickly", Akechi says, giving him back his phone. "To be frank, I am very happy that you didn’t have any second thoughts about me."

"Of course. We would never suspect you, Akechi-kun. What they said on TV, that was utter slander—", the officer says while demonstrators are running rampage in the background, distracting them for a moment and causing them both to turn and watch as one of the demonstrators who managed to break through the barricade has to be stopped by the police, screaming at the top of his lungs "LIES! YOU LIED TO US!", and in the middle of all the confusion—the blinding lights, rain, police sirens, an ambulance driving up on the lawns—in Akechi’s dead corner, one of the police forces suddenly steps forward, and aims his weapon right in his direction.

First one to react, the chief officer freezes, then reaches for his own gun while blurting, "What in the–"

"Turn around, Akechi-kun", the special unit says, voice barely audible through the helmet; "Raise your arms, and slowly turn around."

 

 

—

 

 

Rain slashes against Akechi's skin and drips from the slightly curly tips of his hair. Even though there are several meters and misty fog between them, he knows that the barrel is centered at his face. Eyes wide open, Akechi slowly, very slowly, turns around.

"What the hell are you doing, aiming at Akechi!?", the officer-in-charge yells. "Put your damn gun down, you idiot!"

"I won’t. This is no joke", and in the next moment, several SIU units are drawing their weapons too, perplexedly aiming either at Akechi or at the traitorous police force, stepping back to enable a clear line of fire. "—and I will not hesitate to shoot him. I’m not alone, we’re all here, my fellow accomplices are among these men.” With Akechi still at gunpoint, the fake unit turns and raises her voice to speak to all forces, her adamant speech echoing through dense fog, "This is a direct message to the police and to all deputies of Japan. Tonight, we call on the national police force to take action—because tonight might be your last chance."

"You need to finally wake from your apathy. Our country is threatened to be ruled by men who are controlled by money and power, men who would trade those for the lives and security of the weak any day.” Makoto Niijima closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, reminding herself that her father would be proud, so proud to her those words from his brave young daughter if he still was alive; the words coming to her as if he was whispering them into her ear, and then she continues, tells them, screams across the area for everyone to hear; “We have reached a stage where anyone who wants to protect his own life and the lives of his loves ones, has to end up taking the corrupt route. It has come to a stage were innocent minors are exploited and killed in order to fuel this system of lies. So I ask every single one of you, is this truly the country you want your families, your children to live in? A land ruled by corruption? If you say yes, then let me tell you something. If nobody is brave enough to take the first step, to stand up and fight back, the murders will continue every day. You aren’t safe from the killings and breakdowns. You might be next!"

“Are you trying to threaten us? We have enough forces here to gun you down”, the chief barks. By now, there is severe uproar and several shouts among the police men but nobody shoots. Akechi has fallen silent, just standing there in the middle of the hardened fronts, eyes cutely wide in surprise as if he has no clue what’s going on. He can’t see Makoto Niijima’s face through the special unit helmet, but he knows it’s the Phantom Thieves dressed up as cops, trying to stir unrest among the police forces themselves. Has it been Sae-san who helped them get the gear for their decoy? Just how many of these forces are on their side?

“Stop this immediately!”, the chief blurts. "Put down your goddamn weapon, or it’s you who gets shot!"

“You can’t shoot me. My accomplices are all among these units—you’re outnumbered. If you start shooting, we’ll open fire, and you risk losing your entire unit.”, Makoto follows up smartly. “It’s up to you to decide. Either you do as I say, and not a single drop of blood will be shed… or we let this end in a massacre.” She grips her gun, ready to shoot anytime,and whispers, "It's win or lose."

For a moment, nobody moves. Lightning flashes across the sky right then, thunder crashing—as loud and as terrifying as gunshots in the distance when Makoto addresses Akechi directly, her voice vibrating with anger: “It was you. You killed our leader. Ren Amamiya was _innocent_." Makoto cocks her gun and Akechi’s body tenses up instantly.

"Don’t do anything you’ll regret", the chief quivers back at her over the sound of the pouring rain. "Shoot the kid and before you know it, you’re colder than your dead leader’s body!"

"Aren’t you listening? Why aren’t you doing anything!?”, Makoto screams urgently. “You heard his confession! He lied about the suicide! It’s _him_ who’s been behind the mental shutdowns all along! Handcuff him! Arrest him immediately—"

Several hands are flying when one of the forces next to her attacks her in an attempt of wrestling the weapon from her hands, which results in Makoto kicking him to the ground and firing off a warning shot. "NOBODY MOVES", Makoto yells. "One move and he is dead!"

“Why would we do what you tell us to do", the chief officer quickly starts negotiating. "Of course you’d want to take down detective Akechi and the minister of State for Special Missions, they’re the ones who’re opposing you the most—how convenient to just blame _them_ for the murders, of all people! Why would we believe a single word you say?”

“Because if Shido doesn’t resign and you don’t arrest Akechi, we will—", Makoto starts, voice wavering.

"You'll do what, huh? Force a mass mental shutdown on the whole police force?", the chief challenges.

"—you'll regret it", Makoto says grimly.

"So you're confessing. You _are_ behind the shutdowns", the officer-in-charge rumbles. "You just faked those recordings with your ‘powers’ and thought we’d fall for it! I warned you. Lower your gun, or we’ll shoot you, damn Phantom Thief!"

“Yes, I am a Phantom Thief. That’s right.”, Makoto angrily shouts back and there are several antagonizing sounds around her. Despite the determination in her stance, the gun in her hand is shaking audibly. "Maybe we _are_ behind the mental shutdowns. How would _you_ know? My accomplices are right here with me. If you start shooting, maybe we will not hesitate to shut down all of you, including Akechi.”

Akechi’s eyes widen upon hearing this threat. ”You can’t win this.", Makoto utters.

The moment stretches on. Everyone glances at the unit standing next to them. At this point, nobody knows which ones among the SIU forces are fake; beneath their helmets, anyone could be a Phantom Thief now. The rain continues to fall and nobody moves. It’s a stalemate situation.

“Tell us your terms”, the chief officer yells over the whipping sound of the rain and wind.

“Arrest Akechi”, Makoto shouts back. “Let us change Masayoshi Shido’s heart… This is the only way to…”

“They’re gonna kill us all!”, one of the police units suddenly loses his calm and desperately yanks his arm around, taking his aim off Makoto and on Akechi instead. “I-if we don’t do what they say, they’re gonna shut all of us down!”, he panics. Hearing this, Akechi slowly averts his gaze in disappointment. As always, people turn easily on him.  

“ _LIES_!”

It is right then that the crowd of protesters gathered in front of the scene suddenly escalates. People turn on the police, fuelled by the oncoming surge. Even more protesters fill the street in front of the National Diet; despite police surveillance, the initially peaceful demonstration ignites into an explosion of desperation and rage in which everyone joins in, from young children to senior citizens. In their defiance, the demonstrators resort to insulting the police while attempting to climb over the physical barricades, escalating the crowd-control challenges and now the protestants are even fighting each other, security guards trying to pull them apart and firing off several warning shots into the air. The large-scale demonstrations erupt while the angry masses start throwing dangerous objects at the police forces and shout: "The police is lying and corrupt! Down with the police!  _DOWN WITH AKECHI!”_

“Chief, your order!”, a unit screams, gun still pointed at Akechi.

Akechi, drenched in pouring rain, takes a flat, deep breath and stares into the sky. Hands raised, Akechi glances out at the downpour as if accepting his fate. Raindrops cover his face, run into his eyes, forcing him to blink them away. He feels the anxiety, the mistrust radiating from the SIU chief officer next to him, can basically hear the gun in his hand shaking in hesitation. Even the corrupt police seem to consider changing sides now. Had it been the Sakura girl who had triggered the SIU operation? They might be weak, but it had been a clever move to use the current anxiety and fear of the people caused by the mass mental shutdowns against him, relying on the police to stop him from interfering by changing their heart naturally. What they lacked in strength, is undeniably compensated with improvisation.

With no other option at hand, Akechi raises his arms in surrender.

"Well, please do what they demand", Akechi tells the police forces wearily, a false look of sadness in his eyes as he briefly shakes his head in resignation. "I don’t want anyone to get hurt for my sake."

Akechi finally turns his body towards her. Every stitch of clothing he has on has been soaked, rain drops drip from his hair, run over his face, rolling over his perfectly shaped, slightly pouty lips, his nose, chin. He can’t see her eyes, but still looks at Makoto.

"Blaming me for the murders would be a mistake", Akechi tells her, eerie. "Because he is alive."

Makoto’s eyes widen in surprise.

"Get away from Akechi-kun!", someone suddenly yells, the howl of protest in the rain, echoing off into the distance. "He risked his life to save us all!"

"That's right—without him, their leader would have never been captured", another demonstrator yells.

"He’s just a civilian! You’re just using him as a scapegoat for your murders!"

"That’s right, you bitch", another unit swirls his gun around from Akechi to Makoto, “Akechi’s always been the one to speak the truth!"

"Queen, for hell’s sake! Do it already! _Shoot him!_ ", the SIU next to Makoto yells, Ryuji's voice barely recognizable through the helmet.

“I…”, Makoto stutters, holding the gun straight out in front of her with both hands now.

"In fact, I didn’t kill anybody”, Akechi continues, calm and conversationally. “I merely had to let you believe this in order to gain that man’s trust, and to save Amamiya’s life."

"Prove it.", Makoto whispers sharply.

"I have photographic evidence on my phone."

“What are you—!?”, SIU chief officer tries to bark in. “What is this about?”

"Don’t take me for stupid. I won’t let you touch your phone."

"Take it yourself, then.", Akechi says indifferently. "That should be sufficient to prove my innocence."

Makoto hesitates.

"Don’t listen to him, for God’s sake, he’s just bluffin’! That's just another dirty trick!", Sakamoto says beside her, but Makoto goes forward. Still at gunpoint, she moves close enough to reach into Akechi’s pocket and retrieve Akechi’s phone. Sakamoto has his gun on Akechi.

"Open the chat."

Eyes glued to the screen, she clasps with her free hand at her mouth, staring wide-eyed at the display. "Ohmygodhesaliveohmygod."

"It seems you finally understand", Akechi says tiredly. Wet fringe sticking to his face he leans in and whispers to her, quietly, intimately, his dark, brooding face compellingly handsome—"I made a promise, didn’t I?"

"Yeah, we ain’t havin’ none of that. Whatever you’re trying now", Skull yells behind them. "We don’t care about you effin’ lies. You can’t stop us. We gonna change his heart no matter what. Right, Queen?"

Makoto is still standing there, unsure what to do, her hands trembling.

"All right", Sakamoto says angrily. "If you’re too chickenshit to kill him, I’ll do it."

"No—", Makoto yells and suddenly Akechi snatches his phone from her hands so fast that Makoto jolts and fires her gun in panic, and Akechi doesn’t even flinch nor close his eyes when she shoots the phone out of his hand, sends it clanking and bouncing across the asphalt where it breaks apart into several pieces.

"My... phone", Akechi gasps.

"LET’S GO", Makoto yells, reaches into her pocket and before any surrounding units can take action, she and several other police units in disguise vanish into thin air. Several gunshots go off but it’s too late, the shots go into nothing, hitting one police man who had been standing behind Makoto, instantly dropping dead.

Akechi immediately falls to his knees and frantically starts searching the ground at their feet for the remaining parts of his demolished phone.

"Akechi-kun!", the chief officer exclaims. "Are you alright?"

"I am. They are in the metaverse now”, Akechi hurriedly rips off his gloves, “I just n-need to… I can’t let them…”, he gasps while he gathers the wet parts of his phone and reassembles the parts and battery with shaking hands. The phone’s display is shattered completely.

"Akechi-kun", the chief SIU stutters while Akechi ignores him and stares at the loading display in slight panic, "What are you going to do?"

The phone responds and starts booting. Akechi closes his eyes in relief. "Don’t worry about me", he answers hastily, turning to the executive, "This will soon be over. Your backup would only slow me down, so leave it to me."

"Will you be alright?"

"I will", Akechi says, fully calm, and right in this moment, when his finger hovers over the navApp on his broken display, Akechi feels a dark calmness inside of him as he takes only a second to glance back at the anxiously raging protesters, escalating street riots, torn between their apathetic wish to be saved by some lawful hero of justice and their hate against the government; ripped apart between truth and lie by some fake God who had no intention of listening to their pleas; the frightened police forces, polarized and paralyzed by their fear of the unsolved wave of shutdowns tearing through their ranks: Akechi’s state of mind is revealing itself in a certain calmness inside of him, and an eagerness churns this calmness. He knows his task, and he knows he can do it. Akechi opens the navApp, and in the next second, disappears into thin air, his pristine prince outfit materializing around him, ready to grant them the justice they’ve all been waiting for.

 

 

#  ****XXXXXXX** **

 

A helicopter does a fly-by over the cruiser as the security gate slides open. Seven Phantom Thieves are throwing away their special police combat uniforms while thrashing forward towards the large entrance door, soon dissolving and changing into their Phantom suits. Heels hitting carpeted floor, they're running up the stairs that lead inside the spacious central hall, hearts in their throats.

Queen enters a room with a plate-glass window and shoots the guy inside. Meanwhile, Oracle has a device plugged into an ID card slot with a number pad under it. She waits for a click, and the door unlocks. Soundlessly, the Thieves slide into the long red carpeted path that lies behind it.

The central passage in front of them is clouded by a red haze which is swirling around them: Hot, red pulsing anger flowing through their target’s beating heart muscle, pumping throughout its chambers and letting them know that he is aware of the intruder’s presence, on high alert, and now that they’re approaching towards the red core where the treasure lies, the pulsating is regularly visible. For a while it's just the sound of hard panting while the Thieves are running.

“We’re moving closer”, Panther huffs.

“That went terribly wrong”, Mona finally comments mid-run. “It’s only the seven of us. Did the amateurs even show up?”

“They must have lost heart upon hearing the police’s fulminations”, Fox says. "It doesn't surprise me..."

“We don’t have the amateurs to slow him down, but it doesn’t matter. We’ll have to go with the backup plan.”

“You destroyed his phone, didn’t you? Mona, will the navApp transfer if he uses a different one?"

“Who knows”, Mona says, and Skull asks the Queen, “Just what did he show you that made you zone out that hard?”

Queen opens her mouth, doesn’t look at him, and continues running. “It doesn’t matter now”, she says with a hint of guilt. “Let’s focus on taking Shido’s heart.”

After a short while, whilst running up the broad carpeted spiral staircase, Oracle is falling back just slightly, her heavy breath hitching in her throat.

"Oracle, please hurry" Queen alarmingly tells her over her shoulder.

"I’m trying to… uhhh… I’m just… huhh… not used to…”

“Come on Futaba, we’re almost there, right?"—“This is the right path, right—?”

"That’s—that’s the right way, yes!", Oracle wheezes mid-run, visibly in pain. "Up the stairs, through the central passage and to t-the elevator... and then we go up the assembly hall—that’s where the treasure must—"

A sudden, sharp air draft cuts through them just when they have closed to just over ten meters to the elevator, and Futaba suddenly stumbles, as if her body has stopped moving mid-run. It is so fast, at first it seems like she just tripped, falling face first over the flight of stairs, only noticed by the others due to the thud behind them.

"Oracle, get up!", Mona urges her in panic, immediately stopping while Fox is already by her side, catching her and attempting to hoist her up under his arms, trying to help her get back on her feet.

"Oracle, are you alright.", he asks her upon realizing that Futaba seems unresponsive. While holding her unconscious body up with one arm he suddenly freezes. Queen hears Noir’s horrified gasp and turns around to see what happened. She sees Fox’ open hand come away from underneath Futaba’s body, soaked in blood from palm to wrist.

"She’s been shot", Fox says absently, and then, for a moment that seems like eternity, the Queen _just stands there motionlessly and stares with her mouth open, her senses somewhat muffled, almost like she’s suddenly underwater, sinking. It seems like time froze in that moment as the horror slowly creeps up into her and she stares at Futaba’s body with a blank, unfocused gaze, dissociating from the scene. When Makoto finally manages to divert her gaze from Futaba’s body, looking into the faces of her fellow accomplices, she realizes that her ears are ringing because Ryuji’s lips are moving but she can’t hear him and d_ istantly, Queen hears Mona screaming something she cannot hear over the ringing in her ears _and Yusuke is shaking Futaba's unresponsive body. She sees that Ann and Haru are frozen in place, the look in their eyes like the life had been sucked out of them._

"She’s been shot", Queen repeats firmly, her voice raised in alarm this time, "EVERYONE, search for cover!", she shouts, and regaining her senses with the sudden surge of adrenaline, she jerks around, revolver raised, her eyes quickly darting around the hall in search for a target. Survival instinct kicking in, she loses her peripheral vision, panic darkening and framing her view to a tunnel: He must be near. She catches a glimpse of a shadow up on the platform and fires 1, 2, 3 times, misses, the bullets go off at nothing.

"Damage report", Queen shouts, voice trembling. "It must be him. I-I can’t see any enemies around. We're completely vulnerable."

"Queen, I’m gonna get him", Skull growls, running back down the stairs. "Wait, R-Ryuji!", Haru shouts anxiously, codenames long forgotten. "We don't have enough time to go back", Makoto stammers, breaking a sweat. "We _need_ to go for the treasure!"

"We can’t have him interfere in the fight, can we?", Skull rumbles back, slowing but not stopping, bludgeons tight in his hand. "He must be hiding behind us, ready to backstab us anytime—I ain’t gonna let that happen. I’m the fastest runner, so lemme take care of ‘im. You, go get the treasure ‘n I’ll catch up with y’all later."

It’s plan B—Ryuji acting as decoy and planting the first bomb in front of the assembly doors. “But…”, Queen starts; _but that means Akechi will come for you_. Everything is screaming inside of Queen. This decision is too hard for her to make, so she breathes, and reminds herself of the plan, the only thing that matters. If anyone can do it, it’s Ryuji. During the last weeks, fueled by his intense hatred for Akechi, his battle skills had increased significantly compared to any of theirs. Right now, he's the one with the highest damage output. Makoto knows that given the chance, Ryuji is going to kill Akechi. She looks at him painfully. Her hands are shaking. _Whom would Ren have sent off?_

"Alright", she says finally. "We’ll scatter. Skull, try to distract Akechi. You guys—go for the treasure as discussed. If you encounter Akechi, use your new guns instead of trying to defeat him using personas. Be quick. I’ll stay here and guard the elevator so no one will interfere.”

There is a short moment of silence before the Phantom Thieves split up for their last ruse. Now, there is no turning back. The pain is visible in Queen’s eyes.

“Let’s do it”, Mona says seriously, and Ann nods, “For Ren.”

"I’ll take her...", Fox says, lifting Oracle’s lithe body off the ground.

“Your time to shine, Skull. Don’t mess it up—we depend on you”, Mona shouts after him.

"Alright, then go", Queen forces herself to rip her eyes off the lifeless Futaba, and then repeats, louder, " _MOVE!_ ", as she throws her revolver forward at arm length, eyes fixed on the platform up the stairs, eyes searching for her target while she hears her teammates disband for the last time.

The footsteps disappear in the distance and then she is alone, revolver quivering in her hands, with nothing but the uncomfortable distant smell of industrial chemicals, the vibrations, rumbling of the close by engine room to distract her. She has never been alone in a Palace before, especially not without her persona powers, but she knows she would only weight them down.

"Come out, you asshole", Queen yells at the top of her lungs up to the platform, the shouting more to calm herself down than anything else. She’s taking a few steps back to get out of the center of the room, then flinches when there are one, two, three rumbling sounds—just before the lights of the ship go out.

The room is pitch-black. Makoto hadn’t seen anyone before, but immediately has the icy feeling that she isn’t alone. She draws in a shaky breath. Standing in the pitch blackness, she’s holding the revolver in front of her like her lifeline. Then some of the lights partially flicker back to life, causing her to stiffen then jerk around, but she can’t see any enemies around. Then the lights go out completely, leaving her swallowed by darkness again.

Makoto sucks in a desperate breath and wraps her fingers tighter around the revolver handle that suddenly seems terribly cold through her gloves, her only anchor in the pitch-black space. Blinking madly, she tries to orient herself. A power failure? It had never happened in a Palace before... Tamping back her irrational fear of dark places and ghosts, she wills her hands to stop shaking and forces air in and out of her lungs. "Just an error of cognition, a blackout," she quietly whispers to herself, but the shaky sound of her voice doesn’t reassure her.

The lights never come back. Lost without Joker’s third eye ability and Oracle, her senses are reduced to hearing the enemy. She feels weak and exposed. Soon, fear and panic are jackhammering the veneer of her control as she stands there, practically waiting to be killed.

"I’m... scared", Queen whispers to herself in desperation against the racing heart in her chest, tight and trembling, tingling of fear. "Sis... I… I’m scared of the dark..."

Blinded and disoriented, she slowly tries to navigate through the hallway, emitting a soft cry of frustration, "W... were are you hiding?"

The hallway is silent around her.

"G-guys...?"

Again, there is no response. Makoto takes a deep breath. Maybe, Akechi wasn't able to enter the metaverse—Futaba could have been shot by a shadow sniper, their chances were still high that their biggest opponent was not within the Palace… Her friends must be far away, hopefully fighting the enemy right now and following the plan. That’s good, isn’t it? That’s good...

No, it isn’t... Makoto realizes her mistake. Fear explodes within her and with a whimper, her legs start running blindly, heart pounding with terror, she stumbles and falls to the floor, dropping and quickly retrieving her lost gun again, forcing herself up onto her feet, and running after her only friends.

__Take out the navigator first and turn the lights off._ _

__Make them split up. Isolate them._ _

__Then kill them, one by one._ _

  

 

#  ****XXXXXXX** **

 

They've almost reached the steps descending to the central hall. The lights flicker in the narrow path that leads through the central passage, and in the blink of an eye, the hall beyond is plunged into darkness.

“What’s—”, Panther gushes, “Ugh, I barely see a thing!”

“Follow my voice!”, Mona commands, “—It’s not as good as Joker’s, but I do have night vision.”

They reach the side deck and burst outside. Several snipers are standing behind a plexi-glass window. Panther and Noir scurry around the wall, take them by surprise and fire their guns, breaking the window while the shadows shoot back at them. When the shadows disperse and the coast is clear, Fox hurriedly follows the girls to the side dock saferoom, carrying the injured Oracle in his arms.

"Her suit, get her out of her suit and shoes..."

"She’s regaining consciousness."

"Thank God.", Ann breathes out.

"Futaba!"

"Can you hear us?"

"Uuuughh", Oracle squirms as Yusuke tries to gently lay her down onto the saferoom cabin’s bed, luxury silk bedding soon soaked in dark red blood pouring profusely from the wound. Even the tiniest bit of movement seems extremely painful for Futaba ** _ ** _._**_** "He got me.", she wheezes.

"Try not to move around.", Ann squeaks at her worriedly, her hands flying over Futaba’s body without a clue what to do. "Y-you’ll make it worse..."

“Let me see." Seeming significantly calmer than Panther, Fox gets rid of his gloves, opens Oracle’s navigator suit and firmly press his gloved hands onto the wound to stop the bleeding while Futaba moans loudly in pain from the indescribable sting she feels from the bullet that teared through her body. White as a sheet of paper, Ann grasps her ice cold hand and clenches it tight in both of hers.

“As it seems, the shot went straight through her abdomen”, Fox says. “Thankfully, the bullet scarcely missed her vital organs.”

“W-what, you’re a doctor now, Y-Yusuke?”, Panther half-laughs, rather to distract herself than Futaba because she might pass out anytime now.

“No, we learned as much in anatomy class.”, Yusuke replies absently then tells Oracle, “Stay with us, Futaba. Try to breathe evenly.”

"Just... urrgh… leave me here...", Futaba presses out, squirming in pain. "Steal the treasure already... I’ll... aahhh... manage on my own!"

"We will by no means leave you here”, Yusuke says seriously. “It’s unthinkable."

“The coast is clear”, Noir announces upon bursting into the saferoom, bloody axe resting on her shoulder. “I took care of the shadows. We can go for the treasure!”

"Shut the door, Haru!", Mona tells her and jumps onto the bed next to Futaba.

“Oracle…”, Mona says worriedly.

“I will stay here”, Fox declares.

"No, no, no, idiot..." Futaba wheezes, followed by a painful moan as she tries to pull herself away from Fox’ hands. "Aaahh, d-don’t worry about me. J-just go and change his heart already, that’s what we’re here for!—I caaan… I can make it… out of the Palace on my own, I…”

"Are you insane", Fox tells her agitatedly, and Mona says serious, "The bullet went right through her body, she won’t make it to the exit without help."

“Then let me die already!”, Futaba all but screams back at them, blubbering followed by a violent cough, all kinds of liquids gushing from her mouth. She's extremely pale and covered with cold sweat. "I don’t want the mission to fail because of me", she screams, ignoring Fox’ and Panther’s attempts of holding her still.

“We can still do it without them!”, Noir tells Mona after a moment of hesitation, picking up the heavy detonator in her thin arms. “All we have to do is to destroy the treasure.”

“She’s right”, Mona says, "One of you, take Futaba out of here and get her to the hospital!"

Panther and Fox look at each other.

"Ann, I...", Yusuke starts.

"It's okay, Yusuke." Ann smiles at him. "I'll stay."

“Let's go, Panther—we're not done yet!”, Mona says, already jumping down the bed and going for the door, following Noir.

Ann hesitates for a heartbeat, squeezes Futaba’s hand tight. “Please live, Futaba”, the blond girl whispers to her in a pleading voice, then releases Futaba’s hand, and leaves her behind.

 

 

#  ****XXXXXX** **

 

Every second counts. New security snipers have arrived in the meantime. Noir waits till the coast is clear, then jumps out of the vent. "Let’s go!"

After crossing the side deck, barely evading combat, the three Thieves climb up the overhang and up the flank of the tall Diet Building, climb the ladder and close the distance to the VIP cabin’s balconies. They then proceed with jumping across the room partitions like squirrels until they reach the observation deck. While running, they clip a rope to their ankles and the railing... and jump off the side. As they sail down, they pull out their brand-new gun-type thing and shoot it. A wire follows, and as soon as it attaches in concrete on top of the building, they're whipped back up, pulling them up the roof.

Noir lands on top of the building acrobatically and swiftly crushes the snipers that are positioned on the rooftop of the Diet Building with her persona, Ann dealing the second hit, all six of them evaporating into black dust.

"That was amazing", Panther cheers. "That _totally_ felt like bungee jumping!"

"I'm glad we did it!", Noir says relieved. "Of course we did it. We're like the three musketeers", Mona replies smugly. "Now, let's hurry!"

After defeating the security guards, they hurry across the empty helipad that is centred on top of the Diet building. “Whoa!”, Ann gasps, fighting to move forward against the will of the harsh wind up here which suddenly picks up in strength. Ensigns and flag poles of the National Assembly trembling and swaying wildly, the draft is unfaltering in a whipping that almost threatens to blow them off the roof.

“I feel it! I can feel the treasure’s presence!”, Mona calls. “It’s attached to the assembly hall’s ceiling. Right there—underneath our feet!”

A few more shadow snipers burst out of the elevator behind them that leads up to the rooftop. Mona fires at them. More snipers pour through the opening. Panther shoots at them with her spaghetti aim submachine while the strong wind is blowing almost painfully at her face and blowing hair into her eyes. Noir joins her, nearly stumbling when another sudden gust of wind threatens to sweep them both off their feet.

“Help me plant the timer”, Mona shouts hastily when the wave of shadows is defeated, “—I can’t do this with cat paws…”

“I’ll take care of the shadows”, Noir declares quickly.

“Yeah, cover me!”, Panther demands, then rushes over to Mona and immediately falls to her knees, her hair bristling wildly while Mona jumps onto her shoulder and watches her fidget with the bomb’s timer, “Is this right, Mona!?”

“This one!”, Mona shouts, showing her what to do. “Wait, no... now you set the timer to 1 hour…”

“Aaahhh… Where’s Oracle when we need her!”, Ann all but despairs.

“Try it again!”, Mona shouts and Panther does, ignoring the screaming air, the racing wind tearing at her hair while she attaches the timer’s wire to the explosives with shaking fingers, unspools the wire and attaches it to the detonator, then turns the handle. The timer is resetted.

“Alright—we did it!”, Mona yelps.

“Which time should we set?”, Panther all but shouts, her hair wildly blown over her eyes and annoying her face.

“3 minutes should be enough for us to escape the Palace before the ship goes down."

“You’re sure this is the right spot?”

“It’s directly below us, I can feel it”, Mona says.

Panther bites her lip, staring down at the timer, sweat breaking out all over her body inside the latex suit.

“And you’re sure it will be enough to change his heart?”, she shouts against the roaring of the wind on high, the creaking of the spars, the clanking and grinding of the flag poles.

“It will blow up the treasure. That should be enough”, Mona replies. “Whether you steal it or destroy it, either way the ship will sink.” Despite it all, Mona winks at Panther confidently, “Did I ever disappoint you, Lady Ann?”

Panther smiles at Mona. Then she reaches out to set the timer.

Suddenly, they feel a distant rumble before the gate to the assembly hall explodes inside the building below them, the piercing shriek and earth-shaking rumble of the explosion nearly deafening; sending pieces of windows and walls flying on both sides of the ship and dropping into the ocean. Ann gasps, the impact throwing her off balance. “The bomb will fall! Hold on!”, Mona yells, sounds of crackle and thunder are following, then another series of vibrating explosions throws them back onto the hard metal ground. In a matter of seconds, thick clouds of smoke are rising, emerging from the shattered windows below them, clouding their vision in smoke for a moment.The main assembly hall must have caught fire. 

“That must have been Skull’s blaster. He did it”, Mona says excitedly while Panther is coughing beside her. “Everything works according to plan. That should distract our enemies for now. Let’s hurry up with the…”

"Noir?!", Panther yells into the smoke. Her shout is drowned on the wind.

There is no answer. Panther jumps onto her feet, swirling around. “No… Where is she?!”

The air is thick with the volume of wind that sweeps through it; and then the smoke lifts, and there he is.

 

 

—

 

 

Akechi is standing by the railing of the rooftop, his hair blowing gently in the breeze, the prince suit’s red cape flapping wildly in the wind. Noir is kneeling under Akechi’s gun, the dramatic sunset bathing them in a deep, glowing orange-red light. The girl stares up at her friends, the gun pointing at her forehead, her breath shaky as she eyes them ruefully.

"Long time no see, dear Phantom Thieves", Akechi says perfectly calm. "Drop your weapons and raise your arms. Don’t even try anything, or she dies first."

He is greeted by deadly glares. "How dare you threaten her”, Mona growls.

Slowly, Panther’s right hand slides dangerously close to the timer pad’s surface, just an inch. Akechi’s gaze follows her movements immediately while he firmly presses the cold steel of the silencer into Noir’s forehead. Eyes wide, shocked and too scared to react, Noir’s gaze rivets on the gun Akechi is holding into her pale face. Panther’s hand stops, frozen, hovering over the timer pad. The wind is savagely gusting and whipping her blond hair into her face while she furiously stares at Akechi.

"What happened to Ren”, Ann harshly demands to know.

"Your weapons", Akechi reminds her, ignoring the question. "Or else I won’t hesitate."

Mona throws his weapon on the floor. Panther doesn’t budge.

“Akechi, answer us!”, she yells at him. “Where is he!?"

Akechi watches her, his hair blowing wildly in the breeze. "I think it’s obvious? Your plans didn’t work out”, he replies matter-of-factly. “It seems he was unable to convince the older Niijima that I’m not to be trusted."

“What did you do to him?”

“I did what was necessary”, Akechi simply says.

“Akechi. Why are you doing this?”, Ann groans. “You said you wanted to stop that man too, didn’t you!? If you let us destroy the treasure, his heart will be changed. Then why can’t we just change his heart together!”

“You wouldn’t understand", Akechi says to her, voice firm and somewhat impatient, “So would you…”

"Do it, Ann!", Mona shouts at her. " _Now_!"

Panther’s eyes are locked with Noir’s, who says nothing. She hesitates a second. Then two. A shaky breath escapes Ann’s lips.

"Remember what we agreed on, Lady Ann!", Mona begs her. "Why we’re here!"

"B-but he’ll shoot her!", Panther cries, and it doesn’t take another second for Noir’s face to be streaked with tears of angst. “Akechi, please… Why can’t we talk to each other!? Please don’t do this to us!”

"I don’t enjoy this at all", he says, "however, I have strict orders to follow. Let’s make this quick, yes?", he's seizing Noir by her shoulder and pressing the gun firmly to her temple.

"Let go of her... please!", Ann says under tears. "I’ll-I’ll give you 10 seconds, then I’ll—I’ll do it! I’ll activate the bomb! I’m serious! I’ll set the time to zero, and the entire ship will blow up. It will take _you_ down as well!”

Haru still says nothing, just stares at her in tears.

“You have 10 seconds”, Panther threatens with a quiver in her voice, “10...9...8..."

Akechi is shooting her dark, menacing glances from underneath his red mask. Panther is slowly shaking her head in desperation, staring right back. His gentle appearance had fooled her, as well. He was the exact opposite of what the thieves had initially stood for: Fighting back against rotten adults. Perverts, rapists, abusers, exploiters,ugly inside and out. And here he was, a high schooler; almost the same age as her, who had shown her behind the scene-pictures of a studio recording on his phone while they were waiting for the metro merely a month ago, explaining the process of a recording politely to her, patiently taking the time to answer her questions; it had only been a short conversation, but she remembers it now, now that he's standing there alone, pointing his gun at a girl he barely knew—just were had he gone wrong?

" ....7...6...5...4.."

Haru is kneeling there, her busty chest going up and down quickly.

"Finish the job, Panther! Blow the ship to hell!", Mona bursts out broken-heartedly.

"...3......2....", tears are tumbling down Ann’s cheeks while her voice gets weaker and her outstretched arm fells terribly heavy all of a sudden. The air is heavy, almost like a weight in Ann’s lungs. She doesn’t want to kill anybody.  _W_ hy do his eyes look so empty? Why doesn’t he do anything? Why is he just standing there?

"1...0!"

The air is chilly, but the air from the cruiser’s engine is blowing warmly across them while they can hear and feel its deep hum down below.

If there ever was a crossroads moment before Ann Takamaki, this is it. She could just set the timer to zero, blow them all up, and get revenge for Ren Amamiya. The conspiracy could be stopped, and Yusuke and Futaba would survive and carry on. She does a quick mental life scan, asking and answering her crossroads checklist: Am I really ready to go? Have I done everything I was meant to do? Ann had not accomplished any of her childhood dreams of becoming a famous actress, of walking over a red carpet, a fine gentleman walking beside her. She didn't even experience love making yet, but hey… can't have everything, right? Will Shiho manage on her own? Maybe Shiho would be proud of me if I died now. But maybe she wouldn't. Maybe she wasn't ready yet to lose her friend. 

And actually... Ann didn't do anything wrong, did she? Doesn't she _deserve_ to live?

Nothing happens as Ann still hesitates. "It’s not easy for you, is it?", Akechi asks her, his tone ever so calm and natural, as if he was actually trying to converse about the weather with her right now. "Despite your noble words, you hesitate when it comes to making personal sacrifices for the benefit of others. The 'Phantom Thieves' wanted to change to hearts of those who place their selfish desires over others... Yet, this is exactly what you're doing right now."

"Shut up", Ann growls at him. "Stop... talking... like... nothing’s off!"

Ann’s eyes are wildly wandering and faster than anyone can follow, she draws her weapon and rolls off the ground, gun unlocked and pointed at Akechi in less than a second.

And then she does it. It’s just the pull of a trigger and although it had felt so wrong, it goes back as easily as always when Ann fires her gun at Akechi.

But her submachine gun just clicks, firing off nothing.

"Wha...?", Ann whispers, mortification in her large eyes.

"You idiots", Akechi says humourlessly. "The Phantom Thieves are just using toy guns, remember? I know how you’re operating by now. Only shadows would be fooled by the gun’s authenticity—of course this little trick of cognition wouldn’t work on me."

"Please... Akechi-kun... don’t do this...", Haru pleads quietly in a frightened voice, barely above a whisper, shaking her head in a waterfall of tears, delicate and frail as glass. "We’re your friends, not your enemies. We can still escape together... and all become friends... So please..."

The orange-red light of the sun setting sinks into his skin when Akechi’s gaze slowly wanders back to Haru, giving his silhouette a golden glow.

"It's nothing personal", Akechi says, a slight breeze blowing the silken ends of his golden-brown hair across his cheek. "It's strictly business."

Time stands still when Haru’s eyes meet Ann’s; a silent understanding, a deep connection between them strong through the faze of tears before Haru bats her eyes shut, whispering a silent, _"For Ren"_

With a silent shot, Akechi shoots Haru in the head, splatters of blood splashing from her head and spraying over her shoulders like flower petals. As if cutting strings from a puppet, her fragile body immediately goes limp and sinks out of his grip, falling to the ground.

Eyes still open, auburn hair splattered in dark red splashes of blood, Haru’s last breath is blown into the dirty metal floor; like her father before her, dead from Akechi’s gun.

It’s the wind, though, that in this moment screams in the real world, whistling and moaning while the rain falls in sheets against the wide windows of Haru Okumura’s tidy, lovely room in the Okumura residence that will never be entered by her again. Lightning and thunder are cracking and rumbling in the distance; downed flowers, pots broken and blown away, plants flattened on a hidden place somewhere in Tokyo on Shuujin Academy’s school roof; unprotected and fragile, the sprouts’ young lives would soon come to an end in this rough world with no one left to care for them. It’s a sad sight. The helpless branches are swaying in the heavy wind that is too strong for their fragile leaves; some of the shaking plants snapping right in half, dead leaves flying off, taken by the violent, unforgiving force of the wind.

_“What happened to mama? Why is she sleeping for so long?”, 3-year-old Haru asked, and her father sighed._

__“Look, Haru, she’s… like this flower — when they die, they don’t need water or sunshine anymore, they just go back to the dirt. Same with your mother.”_ _

__Haru stared intensely at the dead flower for a long time. Failing to grasp the concept, she asked puzzled, "But Dad... Why do flowers die?"_ _

__"I don't know, Haru", he said, "Maybe they go to a better place." Her father stared up into the sky; he's far, far away._ _

Something clatters to the floor. Ann has dropped her gun, clasping her hands over her mouth in sheer terror with a heart breaking whimper. Neither she nor Mona move, too paralyzed with shock and disbelief at what they just witnessed while Akechi is currently experiencing an emotional thrill from his first kill. Eyes a bit wild, he's standing with his silenced gun raised at them.

"That’s one down. Who’s next?", he says, a certain excitement shining in his eyes from the euphoric rush while settling his aim randomly on Mona, who can only yell at him not to do it while Panther, realizing her only chance to escape, swiftly abandons the detonator, and tries to escape, dashing towards the elevator.

Ann Takamaki is running for her life and all that matters is that no one follows her. Escaping is the only thing on her mind right now. Behind her, she has to listen to the sound of Akechi firing his gun at Mona, the sound jolting a harsh shiver through her body. Then there are Mona’s loud battle screams as he fights back, the sounds of several gunshots, and Morgana is still fighting; and Panther just thinks that Mona can do it alone, _please, Mona, please do it alone!_ , but then the gunshots don’t stop and Mona grows quieter and quieter. Ann keeps thrashing forward without looking back. She’s still at close range with nothing to shield her, so running faster is the only option she has. She almost crossed the helipad. _I can do it! I can do it!,_ she thinks.

Just when the open elevator doors are merely a jump away, the sound of gunfire echoes across the helipad, and in the next moment, Ann unexpectedly feels like someone just chunked a small pebble at her. There is no pain at first, but Ann realizes that there is also no reason to believe that it was just a pebble that hit her. Ann reluctantly accepts that she must have been shot. But it doesn’t matter. The elevator is right there, just one—

When she's trying to cover the last two steps to the elevator, from about five feet away, Akechi hits her twice in the leg, and the girl falls—screaming—over a mounted binnacle, causing her leg to bend awkwardly with an ugly crack. She enters a state of shock. Her leg gives out under her and she crashes to the floor.

Wincing and moaning in pain, Ann creeps on her side and crawls behind a nearby smokestack funnel, the next bullets ricocheting from its metal inches from her hand. Outside his line of fire, Ann squirms on the ground in pain and holds her wounds, trying to somehow find a reprieve from the sudden, indescribable sting she feels with each bullet that's tearing into her body. When Akechi ceases fire, Ann hears nothing but her own breath, too loud, too heavy, and realizes she's lying on her back, looking up into the beautifully shining stars above her. In that moment, Ann has an out-of-body experience— she feels as though she's watching herself from 15 feet away. She realizes that if she stops moving now, then she'll be dead. Adrenaline surges within her: There are too many things left to do. She’s too young to die. She wants to live more than anything in the world. Ann pulls herself back up on her broken leg despite the bullets in her body, blood pouring out of the gunshots, and goes for the railing on the other side of the ship, jumping down the roof her only possible escape route.

Ann leaves her cover and limps forward despite her broken leg, moaning and crying loudly. When she's almost reached the railing, Akechi knocks her on her back with a shot to the abdomen, again from about five feet away. Akechi now fires shot after shot and the girl continues her high-pitched screeching, the sound causing major discomfort to Akechi’s ears and he shoots her in the left breast to silence her but she keeps on screaming and _she just won’t die_ while that damn cat tries to bite his leg off to stop him.

"Won’t you shut up!", Akechi hisses at Ann in irritation, trying to wiggle off the cat, "I said to be silent, you—"

2, 3 more bullets rip into Ann’s upper body when Akechi fires up at her, hitting her several times in the upper body, knocking her off her feet. He sends her tumbling over the railing, and down the cruiser’s portside, where she falls several meters before her hair and suit is getting caught and tangled up among the large letters of the glowing _ARC OF ELITE_ neon emblem along the side of the ship. There, the girl's fight comes to an end; she's dangling upside down, almost resembling a ship’s figurehead with her long hair falling in cascades over the golden neon letters, flapping wildly in the wind, her leather suit riddled in several shades of brightest to darkest red, pouring over her body.

"Lady Ann, Lady Ann", the injured cat whines, staggering towards the edge of the rooftop, repeatedly falling and getting up on its legs again at the attempt.

Akechi meanwhile steps forward and in one swift motion, stomps with full force on the dying cat, immediately shattering the bones in both its legs. It twitches and rolls on its other side, squealing in pain, front paws sticking up in the air at an obscene, unpleasant angle. Akechi tries to scrunch Morgana under his heel, but Morgana jumps at him in the last second, yowling and clawing at him, and Akechi manages so kick the cat away and stomps right on its belly which bursts open, a fountain of blood splattering up the railing and all over the white material of Akechi’s pant leg. Meowing in pain, Morgana tries to get up one last time, then drops dead on the ground and stays there, its body now pathetically flat, blue and red intestines bulging out of its belly. Akechi waits a moment, but the cat stays dead, blood sweeping out; widening until it almost touches Haru Okumura’s puddle of blood.

During all this, hidden in the shadow of a corner, Yusuke Kitagawa is crouching on the ground, completely frozen while he holds the bleeding Futaba pressed close to his body. He feels her tremble, feels her tears fall down on his cleavage. Someone moves further down the hallway, the steps of shadows approaching. Yusuke closes his eyes, holds his breath and sends his prayers to any God who would listen that the shadow won't discover them.

It all had changed, all this had been but a game for them at first, the metaverse a canvas with endless possibilities; but now that they’re lost in a Palace too strong, the metaverse suddenly appears hostile and deformedly, intolerably dangerous. After seconds that seem like eternity, the footsteps of the shadows disappear. Then it’s quiet.

“Their signals”, Futaba whispers brokenly into the darkness. “T-they’re…”

Fox pulls Futaba against his chest to keep her from finishing her sentence.

 

#  ****XXX****

 

The upscale, dine-in restaurant is the cruiser’s location that seems the least distorted with its bright warm red and purple colors. In the dim light of the sunset outside, as well as in the articulation between thoughtful flavors, the mouth-watering scent of a good expensive beefsteak and ambient piano music befuddling their senses, nobody of the guests here had even noticed the intruders nor the power shortage.

A luxurious entryway leads Akechi past the piano lounge and martini bar into the restaurant where a vibrant, colorful crowd hangs out. He scans the masked guests for any trace of the Thieves. All three of the Phantom Thieves’ attempts to steal the treasure had failed. Now all he has to do is clean up the rest. It's a basic rule in chess - isolated pawns are usually a weakness in the endgame, as there are fewer pieces available to protect the pawn. Without their navigator, it’s likely that the current survivors would struggle to find their way out of this labyrinth, while Akechi himself...

"Akechi-kun?"

Akechi swirls around with a surprised gasp.

"Oh my, if that isn’t Akechi-kun!", the woman says, touching his shoulder, and before he knows it he is engaged in conversation of a small gathering of elitist party guests. "What a pleasant surprise to meet you here. Then again, it really isn’t—I heard you’re a man of taste! Isn’t that so, ‘gourmet detective'?", another fancy girl says while appreciatively feeling over the material of Akechi’s prince outfit. " I barely recognized you with that fancy mask on… Oh, and white suits you so well!”

"My apologies, but I’m currently searching for someone”, Akechi says ruefully. “—did you perhaps happen to notice any..."

"You know, we were just talking about those 'Phantom Thief' kids", a masked woman in a flashy dress says, waving around with the martini glass in her hand. "Just so you know, Akechi-kun—I’ve _always_ been on your side. I mean, I didn’t really have the time to follow the news, but I always had a gut feeling that these forceful changes of hearts won’t end well. And turns out you were right all this time—to think they’d turn out to be behind the mass mental shutdowns. It’s just _so_ terrible what they have caused."

"A shame for our nation!", a man says with disapproving head shaking. "Thank God you took their leader to prison, Akechi-kun. Who knows how long it would have taken without your wit!"

"Ah, well... Thank you for your support." Crow just stands there and smiles perplexedly. Interestingly enough, he doesn’t seem to be recognized as an intruder, which might solely apply to Shido’s Palace and his special status in here. It is quite unexpected to have Shadows talk to him that seem so undistorted, he might as well be at an actual restaurant right now.

"—although, I must say I didn’t know you were a supporter of Shido-san too, Akechi-kun!"

"Ah, uh, that’s—", Akechi smiles, wondering if it was even worth the effort of lying to Shadows, but before he gets to answer the question the masked guest continues his blabbering, "It’s no surprise, really. The majority of the youth favour Shido’s party, you know. He appeals with the idea of eradicating social unrest, and now that the mental shutdowns will end soon, they will favour him even more."

"That apathetic LDP has been in power for too long, doing nothing and wasting taxes. That man will finally put an..."

The rest of the conversation is lost on Akechi when he suddenly gets this crazy heartbeat sensation, as always when another persona user or powerful Shadow approaches. He stays attentive and listens, moving his head subtly. A dinner guest just told a joke and the group erupts into comfortable laughter. Trying not to make it too obvious, Akechi turns around just slightly, eyes searching while his hand slowly goes to his mask.

"Because there’s nothing cooler than a real-life superhero, right Ake—"

"DIE, you fuckin’ _BASTARD_ ", the sound of a maniac voice freezes his movement, and out of nowhere a shadow jumps on top of the martini bar’s counter, throwing a large glass object at Akechi at full force which he barely can avoid by jumping to the side. It loudly shatters to pieces on the romantically decorated dinner table behind him.

Instantly, dinner party guests are panicking. Amidst the scramble Akechi tries to get away and runs for cover behind a table, then gasps when a figure about his height cuts him off, directly coming at him with an animalistic roar, hellfire twinkling visibly in his eyes. Before he can break away, the attacker is grabbing the detective with both hands and painfully throwing him backwards against the bar, glasses clanking and bottles raining down on them on both sides.

"You—asshole", Ryuji roars, "I’m gonna _rip_ you apart—"

The first punch is critical, Skull’s fist landing on Akechi’s jaw so hard that his knuckles crunch.

Crow tumbles back with a gasp, reeling, hand on his jaw. Skull goes after him, but Akechi dodges the second punch last minute and then Akechi suddenly starts smiling, an amused, cheerful grin as he raises his arms, blood trickling from his split lip. Skull frowns as he sees this, waiting for Akechi to either surrender or to lose it, snap and try to shoot him now. But instead, the detective throws his head back and laughs wholeheartedly, his crow mask washed away in a flare of blue-burning flames. He rips off his gloves enthusiastically.

"What an excellent idea”, he says eagerly, “Let's do this the old-fashioned way, shall we?!"

Skull doesn’t even see Crow draw his fist back, but the blow sends his mask flying and makes bright lights flare behind his eyes when it connects.

Pain starts to throb. He didn’t quite expect this physical strength from Akechi. But he won’t back off now. He knows it’s pure provocation; the sheer arrogance of this asshole who thinks he doesn’t even have to waste his precious persona on someone like Skull, only makes Skull's blood boil more. Oh yeah... He's been wanting to do this for a long time now.

Both drop their melee weapons. Hand-to-hand now.

Slamming each other against walls, punching, kicking, and before he really knows what's happening the two teenage boys are in an all-out brawl. Akechi starts to get ahead of things and blocks Ryuji’s hits. That bastard must have watched his moves real close when they fought next to each other in the Casino.

They push each other over tables, block each other’s hits, tripping and hitting every chair and object on their way. Then Akechi deftly manages to slam him into a wall, ram his fist into Skull’s ribs and he winces. Akechi hits him again in the stomach. First it goes dark, and then he sees bright lights—real bright. The pain ripples across his chest. Now Skull’s thoroughly angry.

With all his force Skull punches him with his left fist in the gut with a strength he didn't know he had; knocking the wind out of Akechi and sending him stumbling backwards. Skull follows after him.

"That’s for shooting Futaba—", he savagely kicks Crow against the table behind him, Akechi's hands are flying and searching for something to hold on to, he grabs the expensive velvet table-cloth of the table and rips several served dishes and champagne glasses down with him in his fall, buried by ornamental rose petals and candles instantly.

"—and that’s for killing Haru’s Dad—"

Skull takes a chair and throws it at Akechi. For a few seconds he’s stunned from the hit, and Skull takes his chance, throws Akechi easily off balance and flings himself on top of him. Fists fly and gasps of pain break from both of them as they continue punching each other at full strength. It's hard to tell who has the upper hand until Skull desperately starts yelling wild insults at him while his hits get harder every single time. All he sees in Akechi's face underneath him is the reason for all his suffering. His anger turns his vision red.

Being in a fight, Ryuji has learned that a long time ago, is all about releasing your inner animal and use it against your enemy—if you're a good guy deep inside, you won't win a single fight. Conveniently, out of all Phantom Thieves, it secretly had always been Ryuji who had detested the detective the most... He hated him more than anything.

Straddling him, Skull grabs his throat and punches Akechi at the same time. Every punch lands hard and accurate. Akechi gasps and tries to buck and throw him off, goes for his gun... Skull punches it away, it fires at nothing.

"And THAT’S”, Skull yells and winds up for another punch, “for killing my _BEST FRIEND_!"

"N-not in the face—!" Vigilantly trying to cover his face Akechi suddenly lurches, finally managing to throw Ryuji off his body, and coughs violently, rolling to his side.

Broken apart at last, they’re both on the ground now, trying to regain their breath. Both are pretty beat up. Skull is more bloody, though.

"Huh… h-how pathetic… Is that… all you have?", Akechi pants, breathlessly supporting himself against the side of the bar. His hair is in unusual disarray, jacket of his heroic prince suit torn open at the collar. "I thought you were supposed to be the raw muscle force."

Ryuji scowls, both in anger and pain. More blood is dribbling from his lip and off the tip of his chin. He spits a few times to get the blood and a piece which broke from a cracked tooth out of his mouth.

"Crazy wins over muscle mass", Skull growls back, holding his aching stomach. "Should ‘ave known..."

"Well, I am afraid playtime’s over, Sakamoto." Akechi gets the chance to recover his lost gun and aims it at Skull.

Skull leers at him while clinging to a table, panting. From the corner of the bar, he can see his weapon lying on the ground, several meters out of reach. "Fuck", Ryuji curses under his breath.

"You can’t win", Akechi says. “Your persona is far inferior to mine... and I’m the only one with a working gun.”

Crow cocks his gun and...

"WAIT!"

Crow raises an eyebrow when Ryuji whips out his rifle nonetheless while reaching for a gasping man who attempted to hide behind the restaurant’s piano next to him, forcefully swirling him around and using the hostage as a shield, threatening him with his assault rifle against his temple. For a moment, Akechi hesitates. It’s Politician Ooe, struggling back against the hand that holds him, and not intimidated in the slightest.

"God damnit! Leave me out of this, you damn thug—!"

"Don’t move", Skull shouts at both the masked man and Akechi who now has his gun pointing at Ooe. "Surrender now, or this shitty politician gets a nice deep hole in his effin’ head that makes it easier for him to think!"

Akechi smirks weakly. He seems amused.

"You know this ain’t just a cognition, right!?", Skull barks at him from across the restaurant hall. "We figured this shit out. This guy’s fo’ real. He’s a Shadow who’s boarded the ship.  If I shoot this guy's Shadow, he's gonna die fo' real. I know this is some really important guy—Don’t wanna shoot right through his ass, will ya? Don’t wanna make your boss angry if he finds out you happened to kill one of his shitty friends!?"

Akechi smiles at Skull’s unexpected intelligence while his aim follows Skull’s movements, who slowly leads Ooe to where Akechi stands, but interestingly enough, Akechi doesn’t fire his gun. He briefly shakes his head instead.

"As unexpectedly entertaining it is to fight you—I’d prefer if you’d stop wasting my time, Sakamoto", Akechi says.

Skull shoves the gun into Politician Ooe’s spine. “C’mon old man, go! Move your fat ass! Take away his gun!”

“Urgh, what—”

“Do it! Take it or I’ll shoot you!”

Politician Ooe takes the gun out of Akechi’s hand.

“That’s right. Now take it and kill Akechi—KILL THAT PIECE OF SHIT!”

“You damn brat—", politician Ooe, who definitely had enough action for one night, suddenly hits Skull with his elbow. "UGH!", Skull staggers back and releases the escaping Ooe before loudly stumbling over a chair on the floor, but recovers quickly and grabs his mask, now summoning his persona.

"SEITEN-" Everything goes very fast right then. Everything about Skull and his Persona has always been comical; obviously inspired by dense manga magazines, but in this moment, his cognition goes over the top. The way the air suddenly compresses, the way the forces connect, power charging, almost seems as if Skull comically turns into a super version of himself. He is screaming in raw anger, his thirst for revenge driving him madder than anything ever before. Akechi knows something huge is coming and immediately clutches his mask. He doesn’t know this move. It must be a new one.

The tornado caused by Skull's Colossal God's Hand attack is hitting the restaurant with a vengeance. Immediately, the blast blows out a large portion of the restaurant's glass windows, the sheets of glass shatter and shards of glass as sharp as knives rain upon the restaurant guests. Akechi loses his gun.

The Shadows scream and cry out in panic-stricken horror. "It's a tornado! Cover your head”, someone yells beside them as the guests hurl their bodies over the top of the bar and duck under the tables to cover their heads. Broken glass and liquor bottles crash to the floor. The tablecloths are blown off the table like white shrouds blown away from dead bodies, blowing around in the wind like ghosts. The funnel cloud whips through the restaurant with fatal force and deadly intentions, damaging the furniture, injuring the Shadows who had attempted to search cover, objects and people taken and blown out the window and thrown into the ocean.

 _When did he get so powerful?,_ is the one thought that drones in Akechi’s mind; it feels as though the whole world is tumbling down around him while Akechi remains untouched behind the barely withstanding physical wall, reflecting the full force of the attack right back, redirecting against the ceiling.

Then the first attack is over. Skull swears while the terrible cries and calls for help from the restaurant guests are distracting him. Thanks to the wall, Akechi is untouched except for several minor cuts from glass fragments, but his breath is coming in quick gasps, his body exhausted from the effort of withstanding the unexpected powerful attack, and Skull is already making his next move. "We’ll see who gets the last laugh", Skull growls, "SEITEN TENSEI", he yells while he's charging his powers for another big one; his scream followed by a distant cracking sound, and Akechi, perceptive as he is, looks up the ceiling, eyes widening.

“Sku—“, he warns, then hesitates for a moment. Cautiously, Akechi takes a few steps backwards while watching the scene, closing his mouth again.

Ryuji roars, and just then, with a deafening crack, the entire ceiling made of stained glass crashes down: Window panes burst out of sashes, the floor splinters open as the building rocks; Akechi stays half stunned, too late to move away, expecting every instant to be buried alive; and suddenly the restaurant’s huge golden chandelier above them breaks out of the ceiling, and Ryuji finally throws his head back.

" _Fuck_!", Ryuji gasps, and tries to run away, but it's right then that he twists his bad ankle awkwardly and stumbles to the ground. Ryuji looks up dumbfoundedly. His eyes meet Akechi’s who stands there, astounded, watching everything from afar as if it was in slow motion. Right then, the chandelier collapses entirely, too fast for Ryuji to crawl away—and Akechi watches as it smashes Skull directly underneath, crashing down on his head and burying him alive in a cacophony of noise, glass, and lamp oil, glass shattered and oil spilling as the long rope pools atop the mess.

Then, suddenly, it is over. The restaurant lies in silence. The restaurant guests have either died or fled the room. Only Akechi’s harsh, irregular breaths are cutting the air sharply. He stands there in awe, unable to move for several seconds. His entire body is uncomfortably tense. All he can do is stare at the picture in front of him, how blood mixes strangely with the oil and runs across the floor and into the cracks between the expensive carpet and floorboards.

Stepping over the wreckage in the restaurant with somewhat weak knees, Akechi goes searching for his gun. He then unwillingly moves a few steps toward the mess in the center of the room to inspect the body. Sakamoto lies on his back, limbs outstretched, his head buried underneath several pieces of chunk which broke out of the ceiling. He can see no blood, except for around his head. It must be smashed entirely. Although the state of his body suggests he must be dead, Akechi can see a twitch of his finger, but knows it’s not an unusual phenomenon to notice muscle twitches or movements when a dead body stiffens. Even after the brain stops functioning, it takes a while for the nervous system to also stop functioning, after all. 

Feeling a somewhat childish, thrilling curiosity, Akechi moves a large chunk off Sakamoto’s face with the tip of his shoe. The sight of Ryuji’s face makes Akechi’s stomach churn. His skull is opened on the side and his brain is splattered all over the floor. At first, he thinks it’s merely the thug-like Phantom mask below, but there is no skin from cheek to jaw, the bones of his skull visible through the ripped and torn flesh which is peeled away. He’s dripping dark blood from the injury to his skull, plus from his nose and ears. The skinless eyes sitting in the skull, covered in veins and nerves, stare up at Akechi wide openly, muscles twitching, utter contempt and hellfire still blazing in his eyes. Blood is also pouring from his mouth from where he must have bitten off his tongue.

In death, they’re all exposed in their rawest, most humiliating state. Just like the rest of them, Sakamoto is denied dignity in death. The boy with the big mouth who never stopped talking. He should have found it ironic. But Akechi feels unwell for an unknown reason, fighting to hold down a sudden wave of nausea. The initial thrill, the overwhelming sense of achievement gained from the first kill, is quickly abating, not unlike how it was after he ended Amamiya's life. To him, the sensation of killing was somewhat similar to the one of masturbation, a pleasing, sudden rush of excitement at first, the inability to think of anything else one would rather be doing, and after one brief moment of joy... emptiness, fatigue, and tiresome responsibilities.

Undeniably, Akechi feels exhausted. The fight has taken a toll on him. But he needs to focus. There are just two left before it will be finally done. Akechi realizes that foolishly, the distress made him forget to keep track of his bullet count. He ejects his gun's empty magazine and before it hits the floor, the next one is in. Then he leaves the devastated restaurant behind, reminding himself why he's doing this, and what will be waiting for him after this.

 

 

#  ****XX** **

 

Wielding his SIG-Sauer P230 - 7.65 mm with a silencer on it, Akechi slips unnoticed through dim halls. Without any source of light, the visibility inside the ship is poor, and he has to rely on his third eye ability and unprecedented cloaking powers to move forward. The remaining two Phantom Thieves must be hiding somewhere on the cruiser now, waiting for him to show up, and the constant anticipation of that first shot coming is extremely unnerving. He can’t let them escape, and they won’t—with the police waiting outside the Palace, it’s their only chance of surviving, after all. Now they’re locked with him inside the Palace, and it’s only a question of who finds whom first.

After fifteen minutes of searching the Palace, Akechi progressively goes into sensory overload. He is not at all at his best, slowly losing concentration. His body is pumping adrenaline as never before. Despite having to focus on his task, he feels hot, restless and dizzy, and he doesn’t know why. He might have forgotten to eat in some time. Probably, maybe, that might be the cause of his dizziness.

And just then—when he walks down the flight of stairs that leads down to the pool deck that there are gunshots at him from somewhere on the right. When first contact is finally made, Akechi immediately ducks and shoots back, combatants from both sides firing a shitload of ammunition and not hitting very much. Akechi’s heart is racing and the sound of gunfire is very loud, he can’t even hear the bathing party guests shouting and screaming while trying to escape.

Continuing his attempt of gaining fire superiority, Akechi moves to cover and dives behind the opposite end of the staircase. The fire ceases and Akechi gets a moment to catch his breath. One of the Thieves must have realized in the meantime that their toy guns don’t work on him and managed to obtain a real gun. It must be a clever one.

For too long, nobody of them shoots, both staying hidden behind the counter and the stairs. Gritting his teeth at an undeniably burning sting in the side of his left thigh, Akechi refills his gun with fresh bullets, places his non-firing hand over the top of the slide, pulls back and releases with a click. It’s a deadlock situation—whoever emerges first, has the highest chance of losing. Akechi can see the stairs and exit door from here, so he can shoot whoever runs for it, but there is the possibility that the backroom of the bar has some sort of escape, like a duct or an emergency exit.

"It’s me, Akechi.", he courteously shouts from around the corner. "Come out with your hands above your head!”

There is no movement. Parasols swaying in the breeze, the pool deck is deserted, pool furniture long abandoned in panic by the guests.

"Move out!", Akechi demands. "Your comrades have already surrendered. Throw down your weapon and slowly walk towards me. This is your last chance!"

No answer. Growing anxious and impatient, Crow retreats farther behind a pool chair, moving to flank. He fires the gun around the corner, sends another three bullets in the direction of where the initial gun shots came from.

“P-p-p-p-please don’t shoot!”, a stressed man suddenly emerges behind the bar counter, hands raised in surrender. It’s the shadow of the bartender. “Please s-stop shooting, Sir, please have mercy... I love my wife, I love my little son, I h-h-h-have a family to care fo—”

Akechi shoots the bartender in the face and sends him stumbling backwards where he loudly falls over something, and drops dead.

Akechi moves around the counter, silently grabs a bar stool and hauls it over the counter where he thinks Makoto could hide underneath, the chair bursting into the back-bar shelf where bottles and glasses of expensive alcohol are lined up, exploding into splinters of wood and shattered broken glass showering down onto the floor.

The jangle of the breaking glass has barely died away before Makoto emerges from the cover of the pool bar, assault rifle in hand, and with pure rage and deepest hatred in her blood red eyes she snaps it open with a curse that builds to a scream.

_"RrrrrrrRAAAAAAAHHH!"_

Around the corner, Akechi relentlessly opens fire at her. "Aah...", he gasps, a sharp pain grazing his hand when Queen shoots the gun out of his grip, sending it sliding across the wood tiles. Agitated and in panic, he makes the first mistake by casting Mahamaon on her, neglecting the fact that despite her resistance to darkness spells being no longer effective, the Queen still has the highest agility in the party, dodging insta-kills like they're nothing. With no other choice left but to retreat, he quickly drops to the floor instead to pick up his weapon.

He hears Makoto running, trying to escape through the bar’s backroom, but this time, it's her who makes the mistake. The rat is cornered. Akechi surges back onto his feet and jumps over the bar’s counter, takes a bullet-dented bar stool to shield him and kicks open the door to the backroom, bursting inside the fitting rooms.

Inside the small room, there are several scared and gasping passengers who tried to flee the shootings and there is Queen, retreated into one of the dressing rooms in the far corner, stopped in her attempt to escape through the vent.

Without hesitation, Makoto and Akechi open the fire at each other non-stop, tearing and ripping up everything around them. The little fitting room is filled with smoke, dust, splinters, screams, bullet casings and blood. Akechi has to learn that firing handguns inside a closed room is quite distressing on the ears. It is all a very unpleasant experience and he threatens to lose focus due to exhaustion. He doesn’t care about killing her neatly and clean, he just wants the Thieves dead and it to be over now.

Akechi keeps shooting until his weapon is empty. After what might have been seconds but seemed like minutes, the shooting stops and silence settles over the fitting room. Akechi’s ears are ringing like crazy. When smoke caused by the excessive gunfire starts to dissipate, the masked cruiser guests lie dead or severely injured on the floor in puddles of their own blood. Slowly, their bodies start to dissolve into nothing, one after one. Then, there’s only one left alive.

Akechi steps over puddles of steaming black blood and leans again the door of the fitting room stall, stays in silence and listens. There are silent, muffled sobs coming from inside the room. With the gun raised, Akechi draws back the purple curtain.

There she is, Makoto Niijima, on the floor below him, drenched in her own blood and perforated by bullets, a dark crimson red hole left where her left eye used to be. The rifle is lying beside her – empty, probably. She is clinging to the fitting room stool, retreating as far as she can while still carrying that hostile, distrustful look on her face that she had always shot him right from the first day they had met.

"You... monster", Makoto gurgles out. "How... could you..."

"Where is the last one", he asks her indifferently. "Where did Kitagawa run off to?"

Their eyes are locked. When she doesn’t say anything Akechi aims to shoot her in the head, Makoto flinching in fear and firmly shutting her eyes, expecting death. But the gun just clicks, the magazine shot empty.

When nothing happens Makoto’s eyes fly open and settle desperately on something behind him. Akechi turns around and finds her mobile phone on the floor, lying next to his leg.

"I see. Very clever", Akechi says. "You knew your chances of winning were exhausted, so you sacrificed yourself to protect your teammates, didn’t you? How very honorable of you", he says while pushing her mobile phone further out of reach with his foot. He watches as all hope fades from her blood streaked teary eyes, now staring up at him in a soundless plea.

"Did they... steal the...?", Makoto whimpers.

“Of course not. Are you an idiot?", he says sternly. "It was an unwise decision to split up. Perhaps you would have stood a chance if you had joined forces against me.”

There is a long pause. Makoto looks terribly sad upon hearing that the mission failed.

“Why didn’t you shoot me back then?”, Akechi asks her. “Because you think I didn’t actually do it? You still think I wasn’t capable of it?"

"Where... is... he...?", she whispers brokenly.

"You should already know that", Akechi tells her coldly. "You’re a clever girl, aren’t you? In fact, it surprised me how far you got. You even managed to bug my phone, gather evidence, and find out the truth of who really is behind it all." He shakes his head. "But in the end, you were just like the others... too afraid to bring about true change. Or, had you perhaps thought you were somehow 'special', like him?”

“I saw the message... his picture…”, Makoto whispers sluggishly, “Ren’s… he was... hurt, but alive…”

"No...", Akechi tells her. "I tricked you the same way you tricked me. Since you broadcasted the calling card, you too should be well aware of the fact that it’s possible to use electronic devices inside the metaverse if correctly manipulated. Needless to say, recording evidence and taking pictures of a human's true desires can be very useful for blackmailing purposes and the like."

Makoto’s eyes widen in disbelief. "It wasn't... real...?"

"If you amateurs could do it, you thought I can't?", Akechi scoffs. "I have the entire police force and the nation's biggest IT research lab behind me. They quickly figured out the mechanics... All that remained was to find someone foolish enough to believe that Amamiya was still alive."

"No...", Makoto whispers in disbelief upon hearing the truth, that the picture which had fooled and blinded her had been her very own distorted desire... Life flickers by like a movie montage with long forgotten faces and scenes she wishes she could have forgotten; fragments of a cute diary, scribbled all over the pages with little drawings of pandas; words in small and scrawly handwriting:  _My mom is a ghost! She lives inside the closet._

"The child was so inappropriate. She was laughing and running around. That’s no way to behave at a funeral.”

Pages are flying and torn out when little Makoto writes angrily, _Dear Diary! Aiko was soooo mean to Kanako again! I wanted to tell her to shut up! But I am afraid that she might tell the teacher. The teacher doesn't like me. I'm really afraid of the teacher._

“Our imaginations can be really powerful and get the best of us,” _Makoto's Dad smiles while gently touching her hair._ “Sometimes, when we don't know the truth and can’t make rational arguments yet, we can't make sense of things that happen around us—that's why ghost stories can get very scary...”

"He died in a car accident on April 23 in the line of..."

_“You should smile more often, Sae. You need to be strong for your sister.”_

"The child grows up with her sister—"

_Ever since his death, every festival and birthday is just like another ordinary day..._

Tears are falling at night when Makoto lies curled up in bed because it’s her birthday and Sae didn’t come home today

__"…and his flawed version of ‘justice’ got him killed", Sis yells and bangs her fist on the table. "What about us?! What about our 'justice'!?"__

“But… But he was fighting against crime!”, _Makoto says defiantly,_ “He wanted to change the…”

__“He was selfish!—He died upholding some lofty sense of righteousness, leaving all his responsibilities on us. He left his family behind!”_ _

_Dear diary,_ Makoto writes years later in neat, perfect handwriting with her fountain pen, every word perfectly aligned on the vertical lines of the cute diary. _I think Sis has started to hate me._

_“She did nothing even even though everyone knew about Kamoshida."_

_"Yeah. I wish that bitch would get raped, too. She would have deserved it so much more than Suzui."_

“The Phantom Thieves”, Makoto wonders absently over dinner, “Do you think Dad would have supported them…?”

_I spent time with Ren today. He might be kind of a 'bad boy' and his appearance is somewhat disheveled outside the metaverse, but he reminds me a lot of Dad at times..._

"I am... strong. I don't want to be overshadowed by my successful sister, by her unrealistic expectations...”

 _I thought a cognition of Dad would exist in Sae's palace, just like there was a cognition of Futaba's mother in hers,_ she writes and words are getting smudged by tears again; _but I wasn't able to find it..._

“Your sister has been put under pressure and manipulated into giving birth to a Palace...", Haru says. "It's not her fault. It could happen to anyone!..."

_Ren took me to the arcade to show me how to play games and then we watched the "Emojis Movie". It was a rather stupefying movie but it felt so good to laugh. I feel like I haven’t laughed in a very long time._

_Dear Diary, I might have fallen in love with Ren Amamiya,_ she writes excitedly, then hesitates, _But I'm not sure if he would ever want to commit to me..._

_Dear Diary, I lost my Persona summoning powers._

_Dear Diary, I'm afraid of going back to my weak self_

_I wanted to be strong_

_But I'm_

 

"It’s truly tragic that it had to end like this", Akechi tells her, pulling her back to reality. "But honestly, I'm not surprised. You never had it in you to bring about true change... Instead, you chose for yourself to remain the same pathetic, self-pitying, obedient honor student. Little domestic animals like that are destined to obey."

No killings, no violence. Diplomatic reasoning. _—_ The Thieves' last moves had had Miss student council president’s signature all over it. Even when faced with immediate death, she wouldn't resort to true action, instead relied on obedience and the goodwill in people. It was bit disappointing—nothing at all like Amamiya’s cunning schemes, his sneaky way to handle things.

Akechi watches her body curl as a wave of pain quivers through her. Ironically, the two of them were quite similar to each other... Both of them had tried so hard to live up to someone else's idea of perfection, their only way of being accepted. Yet, one of them is bleeding to death right now, and the other isn't. 

"Please... help… me...", Makoto begs him pathetically while her mouth fills with blood that cascades over the sides of her cheeks, over her chin. Her whole body is trembling now. He doesn’t help her, taking his own phone into his hand to quick travel to the Palace entrance, finger hovering over the navApp, then he looks down at Makoto again, waiting for her to die which supposedly won’t take long. So he stands there watching the life slowly leave her as his heart seemingly beats in deep rhythm with it all. 

Next, her muscles stiffen, become rigid, and she goes into her death throes. Makoto's throat becomes flooded with dark-red blood and she starts thrashing around as if tied up although she is not. Akechi feels another unexpected thrill of excitement flow through his body while watching her die with some sort of detached, childlike interest; a tingling hot sensation rushing through him and he finds himself unable to look away. Her body, shaking spasmodically beneath him, resembles what Akechi imagines an epileptic. Gradually her blood seeps out, spreading beneath her and out of the changing room, almost reaching his shoes. He waits until she’s finally motionless, her bloodshot dark red eyes rolling back in some kind of horrible dream state.

As soon as he is sure Makoto is dead, Akechi walks back and takes the elevator to the Central Tower on the top floor of the building. He steps outside the large observatory which offers a panoramic view over the apocalyptic drowning city of Tokyo. He crosses the platform and sees the two scrambling little Phantom Thieves Thieves in the distance, running in panic down the long deck towards the foggy cover of the ship’s bow.

Cracks of gunfire echo into the empty air when Shido’s security snipers are firing their automatic rifles at them, pursuing them.

Naked feet slapping against the deck’s wood boards, Futaba is trying to escape the gun shots. Despite wishing for herself to die so desperately for years, in this moment, Futaba Sakura is _running,_ air burning like acid in her chest, feet pounding the ground, everything around her smudged, a blur of shape and color. Her lungs and everything inside Futaba burns but she won’t stop running for her life towards the safety of the Palace’s exit.

Akechi steps to the railing of the observatory, then takes his gun with his uninjured right hand, and straight arm aims at the fleeing teenagers who are getting closer to the cruiser’s bow; like rats fleeing the trap, heading for the deceiving safety of the real word. It's just when the two Thieves have managed to outdistance the shadow pursuers and the gun shots in their back stop, when for a single moment, Futaba turns her head to look back, hair whipping in her eyes as she meets those of Akechi's, her friends' killer, standing at the observatory high above them; and then she breaks eye contact and tries to put all her focus on the distance between her and the exit. Her usually over-driving brain is silent for once, just the sound of her own breath is ringing in her ears and Yusuke’s pants next to her the only things that matter now; the look on her face turns to the same as an animal being chased by a predator: _FLIGHT—PANIC—FEAR_

Akechi cocks back the hammer with his thumb, dark reddish brown eyes washed empty as he aims at the last two Phantom Thieves dashing for their lives. Then he fires his gun two times.

The crack of the pistol echoes out loudly in the distance. It was not the bullet noise that Futaba scared—it was the bullet passing close by her head. The bullet had weight like a piece of incredibly long, thin rebar just appearing out of nowhere right beside her. Getting her undivided attention.

But then it’s gone; it missed, and even if she can’t believe it herself, Futaba is still running, tears in her eyes.

"Fine, then, _run_ —", in a sudden burst of annoyance Akechi grabs the railing and shouts down the National Diet building, “RUN from me and continue your pitiable lives, living in constant _FEAR_ ", he yells, and then his former teammates make it to the edge of the Palace, and vanish in the golden light of the nation’s sunset.

 

 

#  ****X** **

  

The bloodstained prince suit washes away from his body and is replaced by his prim and proper school uniform as Akechi reappears in the real world. He looks exhausted, but other than that, unhurt. When he turns around, he looks into several shocked faces as if they’d just seen a ghost.

"Akechi-kun...", the proxy SIU Director gasps. "What in the world—?"

"You haven’t by any chance seen them escape, have you?", Akechi interrupts him.

"What?", the SIU Director sputters. "No. Where?"

"Of course you didn’t. They were disguised as special units", Akechi says, checking the time on his phone. "Please excuse me, but I need to leave now. This case might be closed soon. You may withdraw your units. Thank you for your support.", he says with all the politeness he can muster despite his extreme exhaustion, then already walks away, policemen stepping back out of his way to let him through. "Akechi-kun, wait—", the proxy SIU Director calls after him, but Akechi can’t hear him over the sound of rain.

During his ride to his final destination, Akechi feels a strange tranquility. His thoughts are strangely silent, almost melancholic, as if he's approaching a turning point... Like life was divided into two chapters, and the second chapter would start right now when he stands in front of the café, his face and hair drenched in rain.

For a moment, Akechi’s hand lingers over the door handle before he enters Leblanc. It lies in melancholic dimness in front of him. Has the café always been so dimly lit? he didn’t really recall it being this way. No guests are inside, the usual sight of empty tables with just the old meager café owner who stands behind the counter and turns to him, orange light of the ceiling lamp illuminating only one half of his face. The two man hear the sound of thunder in the distance as their eyes meet.

" _You_ ," Sojiro Sakura says agitated. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Please keep your voice down.", Akechi tells him firmly while taking out Ren’s keys and swiftly locking the café entrance. 

"They're not here", Sojiro barks. His hand slides dangerously across the bar surface, just an inch.  

"I figured as much", Akechi replies, following his movements with his eyes. "I assume they wouldn’t want to endanger your life."

"Get out of here before you regret it, kid." Sojiro tells him, voice on the edge of anger.

Unintentional, Akechi’s eyes wander around the café he had frequented almost every day these past months. It had been his personal, secret escape spot. In sharp contrast to his ever-busy schedule, time had always stopped when he had been here... _There was something about this slow, hidden place that made you forget all your troubles as soon as you stepped in. Though located in close to the heart of Shibuya, the complete shut off of all city distractions and noise made you feel as if you were thousands of kilometres away from the hustle and bustle of your daily routines; yet comfortably near enough. Although I never got the chance to taste it, the café’s original curry is said to offer the perfect balance of sweetness and spicy lava, served with a cup of the shop’s original blend for ¥800 which the owner himself serves. A great place if you want to satisfy your exhausted, yearning body and indulge on it all by yourself. Live and let live is its honest, warm, familiar ambiente._

Akechi had never written a review for Leblanc since his fans would have flooded the café; but he must say, this would capture his thoughts on it rather well. Of course, Leblanc's business would fall if he'd mentioned the less flattening aspects, singling out the decor, the muffled meowing from upstairs, the lingering neetstink in the upholstery... But for Amamiya's sake, he would of course stay silent about those more scathing details.

Entering the café now feels so very, very different now... Hostile, just like anywhere he goes.

When Akechi is drifting off in thought and doesn’t respond for a strange, long moment, Sojiro slams his hands onto the counter so hard the interior clatters.

"Just what did you _do_ to them?", Sojiro barks.

"I’m not...", Akechi says, blinking slowly, his voice somewhat quiet. "I'm not accountable to you, Sir."

"That’s right. You’re just some useless criminals’ lapdog", Sojiro barks at him. "I don't want you in here. Get OUT!"

Akechi draws his gun, concealed under his drenched uniform jacket. He settles it at Sojiro.

The familiar, comfy sound of the old-fashioned walnut pendulum clock is ticking while they stand there.

"C’mon, boy", Sojiro says, his voice now gravely serious, speaking slowly and careful now. "I may not know how you got caught up in all this, but let me tell you something. You’re going down the wrong path. You’re young and easily exploitable, and you are taken advantage of by those criminals..." Sojiro shakes his head. "Whatever they want you to do, whatever they tell you and want you to believe—you _always_ have a choice. Don’t let a single mistake destroy your entire life."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about", Akechi mutters matter-of-factly.

"What the hell are you—where’s Ren?", Sojiro shouts at him. "He is... he was your _friend_ , wasn’t he!?"

Another pause, and then the grandfather clock grows slower, quieter with every heartbeat. Akechi opens his mouth, then closes it again, looking up at Sojiro with empty eyes.

"It’s over", Akechi says.

Then Sojiro moves first and makes for the backroom of the café, supposedly to retrieve a hidden weapon. Akechi doesn’t flinch when he aims around the corner to shoot him three times in the back just as thunder strikes to shake the foundation of Leblanc’s two-story structure and clatter the old interior to the core. The old man hits the ground with a heavy thud.

A strange calmness falls over Leblanc.

Akechi picks up the yellow payphone, inserts some coins and dials a number.

"It’s done."

" _How many corpses?_ "

"Just one", Akechi say. He sounds tired and indifferent. "The rest has been taken care of elsewhere."

" _Huh. I see_."

"Yes, about that, I... I’m unsure about the next steps", Akechi says a bit restless.

" _First of all, calm down. Take a seat, or something_."

"No, it’s—I just feel a little dizzy, is all. I’m doing fine."

" _Good",_ the Cleaner says. _"Are you sure that the person’s dead_."

There is a small pause, a quiet thudding sound audible through the line.

"Yes", Akechi says. "What now?"

" _Anyone saw you? Anyone hear you?_ "

"Nobody. We were alone."

" _Where are you now?_ "

"Yongen-jaya backstreets, in a café called Leblanc."

" _Make sure it’s locked, and no one gets in there before our men arrive_."

"Yes, of course."

" _Good. Now listen. I’ll tell ya what’s next._ _I need to know what happens to the bodies in there."_

"Who knows, maybe they get spat out. Maybe they just drift around there forever. I wouldn’t be able to tell. Moreover, they most probably still carry their phones on them."

_"That's not good enough."_

Akechi shuts his eyes, tries to think. "Worst case, their bodies might pop out in the correlating counterpart location of death in the real world. Should this happen, we won’t know where they might appear and who would find them first."

 _"Sounds like we sure as hell can’t leave the bloody bodies in there_."

"You're correct. We must get rid of them without raising any suspicion though."

 _"Right. I'll let the SIU Director know.",_ he says. _"Anyways... so, what’s the story?_ "

"We need to frame it as a falling-out", Akechi says quickly. "The report must say it was 8 bodies."

" _Alright_.", the Cleaner says. " _Anything else_?"

"It must be 8 bodies", Akechi repeats insistently. "This is very important..."

" _Yeah, I got it the first time",_ the Cleaner says, and then, _"Alright, listen close. You sound a lot like you had a rough night. I want you to lock up, then leave the crime scene immediately. Go home, wash your face, get some sleep. You’ll write a detailed report of how you found the dead bodies first thing tomorrow morning and hand it in to the SIU. Don’t talk to anyone about what happened, and decline any public statements or interviews before we contact you again. We’ll take it from here. Got it?_ "

"I understand", Akechi says.

__"Good."_ _

Knowing his orders now, Akechi hangs up the phone. He quickly proceeds with the clean-up work, searching for mobile phones but finding none. He unceremoniously gets rid of his own phone by swiftly breaking it into two pieces. Finally, he walks to the sink in front of the restroom and washes the splashes of blood off his skin. The wound on his left hand is throbbing with pain. With clenched teeth, he briefly checks the wound underneath his glove. A deep stripe starting on his little finger going over the whole back of his hand glisters in dark red blood, framed by traces of black gun powder. Akechi pulls the glove back over the aching wound with a faint gasp.

That was a close call. Far too close for his liking, with far more intricacies than expected.

Upon glancing up into the mirror he recognizes that he looks exhausted, but other than that, acceptable. He adjusts his gloves, composing himself. When he’s done, he leaves without looking back. The bell chimes as Leblanc’s door closes behind him for the last time.

The world seems very quiet right then. Rain gently washes over him. The streets are washed empty. The black of the sky above him is broken by flickering lightning, thunder rolling in the distance. The rainstorm is already passing and moving on, the cool air and distant noise soothing, and too far to be unpleasant.

Akechi breaths in the fresh air and fixes his tie. He reminds himself that everything is fine, everything is under control, and that he still has to return the mystery DVDs tonight.


	5. Buffet Party

 

 ** **A STORM of flashlights**** blinds him momentarily when he gets out of the cab.

“Akechi-kun, can we get a statement from you?”—“A statement, please!”

“Is it true?! They’re dead?”—"The Phantom Thieves are dead?”

“Do you already have a suspect?"—"Can you reveal their identities already?”, another person yells.

“Akechi-kun, can you confirm the rumors about leaked photos of the crime scene?” A reporter attempts to shove a microphone into his face. “ _Every Morning_ is describing a massacre with horribly mauled bodies…”

A bodyguard pushes the microphone aside, but Akechi reluctantly chooses to answer.

“I can confirm that several high schoolers have been found dead, whom we highly suspect to be the Phantom Thieves”, he states briefly. “I cannot give you more information as the case is under police investigation, so please be patient and wait for the official statement... But eight people have died.”

While he pushes past them and heads for the building entrance, he is bombarded by an even louder barrage of questions.

“What about the recording?—How were they able to fake it!?”

“Was it them? Did they really cause the mass mental shutdowns?”

“Please put an end to the crimes—”, he hears a man shout through the bombardment of questions. “Save this rotten country, Akechi-kun!”

Midway on the stairs leading up the building entrance he pauses briefly, glancing over his shoulder at the crowd behind him.

“10 minutes left”, the bodyguard says while holding the door open for him. Akechi nods to his bodyguard, turns on his heel and strides in, ditching his plans to wave at the cameras from the doorstep — just in case it looked too presumptuous.

 

 

****12/18/20XX** **

 

_Down in the deep, hidden under the murmurous choral of dim and mighty, heavy waves mid-ocean, all those voices are muffled, hushed to a silent gleam, a rapture lost to the vexed human wills. A handful of chess pieces is floating in the water, slowly but steadily sinking into the cold embrace of the abyss. They’re pawns, carving invisible striations across the currents, idly rising and sinking on spiral eddies and drift tides._

_In harmony with the serene depths, his mind is silent, and at ease. Pawns are weak, replaceable and often in the way—they exist to be sacrificed, since their purpose is to protect other pieces of higher value. A good chess player knows that a winning strategy always includes a pawn sacrifice._

_And so the chess pieces are silently drifting; slowly, gently disappearing into the depths of the dark, merciless ocean._

 

It’s 6:00 AM. Akechi’s replacement phone beeps.

He feels as though he has just come home, stumbled out of the elevator to dissolve into his single apartment high above the city, and fallen into bed in exhaustion. His head feels thick, his legs sore. He might as well have been hit by a truck last night. With tired movements, he takes a quick peek under the duvet, realizing he is still mostly in his school uniform, his tie only half-heartedly undone. He hasn't even gotten around to taking off his socks.

Blindly reaching for his phone in the dark, he shuts off the alarm. He turns over irritably, beats his pillow into submission and falls back into the bed once again, listening to the sound of gentle rain battering against the windows.

He’s merely slept about 5 hours this night, and the night before, and the night before, but it’s not over yet. Tonight is the long-awaited event: Election night. He deserves a few extra moments in bed, knowing that he won’t get any sleep tonight, either.

He tries to be philosophical. After all, he has succeeded so far, removed the most pertinent obstacles, nothing substantial left to get in the way of his plans. Now, he only has himself to bother about; no nagging adversaries, no haters online, no school exams, not even a dog to take care of. His plan is moving closer. Everything is set up, everything has worked out more or less perfectly so far. He has hoped he would feel more confident by now, able to leave the darkness inside his mind behind him, but it still casts a cold shadow, follows him everywhere, particularly into bed. He shivers, buries his face in the pillow and reminds himself that he has to endure it all just a bit longer.

But it is difficult to be philosophical when your body is freezing. One last wet wind is blowing, rattling against the window, but dies down soon. The storm has passed on, and everything is back to normal. He throws back the duvet and clambers out of bed.

For the last two and a half years, he has been living in this rather nice, lofty single apartment with a living room, kitchen and two bedrooms. As usual, he walks into the kitchen first and grabs a bottle of mineral water from the otherwise completely empty fridge. He takes two vitamin pills along with the drink and walks through the living room, past a video camera on a tripod he uses for interview rehearsals, standing next to a laptop and a wide-screen TV.

He stands in front of the living room windows and peeks through the blinds, rain drops on the window blurring the outline of what is beyond: A view of the surrounding urban cityscape, skyscrapers glowing silver against the early morning sky, a grid of streets that from here looks orderly and clean. Tokyo indisputably is one of the most entertaining and active cities in the world, and one nowhere would be able to feel as lost and lonely as in its vast metropolitan crowd. A modern business metropolis that has yet to wake up at this hour, that can whisper one moment and roar at the next, a place where almost anything seems possible. And sometimes is.

"I won’t miss you one bit", Akechi whispers and lets the blinds fall shut.

While getting washed up and ready for the day, he distantly hears the pre-recorded interview on _Good Morning Japan_ from the running TV.

_“What are you going to do after the Phantom Thief case?”_

_“Of course, there still is a lot to investigate until this case is closed. Afterwards, I intend to focus on my university entry exams... Truth be told, it seems I’ve solved more criminal cases than algebraic equations as of late.“_

_“Well Akechi-kun, if it helps with your university applications, you can definitely put ‘catching the leader of the Phantom Thieves’ into your CV by now!”_ , the host jokes. The audience laughs. _“Next question from the audience!”_

_“Thoughts on the Prime Ministerial election?”_

_"Ah, I expected this sort of question.”_ Akechi smiles, perfectly calm.

_“Can politicians ever bring about change, or are our votes all they’re after? What does our ‘ace detective of justice’ think of that?”_

_"I’d say that after the recent events, it has become obvious that reforming our social system is the most important challenge of our time”, Akechi says seriously. “A good politician would put forward an honest, truthful vision for the important role that Japan plays in the world, and would have to be fully committed to a better future for our people. Particularly for the sake of the young, I would wish for a political leader who appeals to people's hopes, and not their fears."_

_“Well, the election predictions are rather self explanatory!”,_ the host banters. _“Do you agree with the popular opinion, Akechi-kun?“_

 _“Unfortunately… I’m not getting paid for any sort of endorsement, so I’ll keep the answer short.”_ Akechi smiles sadly, earning some scattered giggles and further keeping the audience amused. _“I have admired the campaign that the United Future Party has run. As I mentioned earlier, I do feel the urgent necessity of a social reform, and Representative Shido has made this a centerpiece of his campaign. Having had the possibility to meet Representative Shido in person, I must say that he is a formidable, strong citizen-political leader. This might be a subjective standpoint, but I do agree with the general public…”,_ again, the audience interrupts him by starting to cheer enthusiastically, the atmosphere in the studio now resembling more a TV appearance of an actual idol than a crime investigator.

“… _that I believe Representative Shido is a promising candidate in order to enact important policy and turn our vision of a just, brave new world into reality…”_

Akechi spits toothpaste into the sink and feels the urge to thoroughly rinse his mouth with mouthwash several times until his throat burns. He then carefully inspects his injured dominant hand, checking if the wound is healing correctly and has no signs of infection. He applies some more antibiotic cream, just in case.

Now — time to put his mask on. He can’t let the exhaustion show on his face, after all. He takes a hot steam shower, then proceeds with inspecting his face in the mirror.

It doesn’t look too bad. There’s the smallest hint of a black eye on the right side where Skull had hit him, but nothing the studio staff wouldn’t be able to conceal. He usually gets made up for TV, but otherwise being a high school student, he doesn't really need much care other than a wash, some facial and hair products and some moisturizer. Lastly, he carefully fixes that one stray strand of bang hair, spending quite some time in front of the mirror to get his styling to look as cool and carefree as always.

Akechi puts on a fresh uniform and a tie that works for TV. As always, as a final check, he smiles one last time at his reflection in the mirror. Ready for battle. He puts on his gloves, grabs his attaché case, and goes on with his day.

“Ah… it’s the pleasant young man… Good morning…”

Just after leaving the apartment, the old profoundly deaf lady who lives one floor below him spots him at the stairways. “I haven’t seen you in a very long time... You keep coming home very late, young man!”

“A wonderful good morning to you to, Madam. How have you been doing?”, Akechi greets her in an exemplary poster child manner.

“Yes, yes”, she says, “Heading to school?”

“To work, actually. Duty is calling!” Akechi beams gently, already mid-turn.

“Wait a moment, young man”, she waves. “Ah, you see… I visited my granddaughter in Hokkaido last week… She’s turned into a beautiful young woman… very beautiful… I have a picture…”

“Oh, she’s very cute indeed.”, Akechi politely comments on the picture.

“And her garden… we harvested so many plums... Come over for a minute or two, young man, I have bucketfuls of those... The taste is very sweet and ripe… They need to be eaten quickly, or else…”

“Ah—thank you for your kindness Ma’am, that truly sounds lovely”, Akechi declines politely, “Unfortunately, I am already in a hurry. I don’t want to end up late and leave a bad impression. My apologies—I will drop by next time to have a taste, I promise.”

“But there will be no next time, young man”, she chidingly calls after him, the _clonk clonk_ of his perfectly polished uniform shoes echoing away in the staircase. “They’re all going to turn bad…!”

 

 

********* **

 

It has just stopped raining and the air outside is fresh and clean. The streets are still wet from the previously incessant rain, bizarre cloud-shreds mirrored in the glittering puddles.

Up until now, Akechi has never had much direct nor indirect contact with Shido, with the exception of several phone calls to report major incidents or urgent matters. For the longest time, his informants had mainly been the now deceased SIU Director, the IT Company Director and several police executives. He’s been summoned here only very few times as Shido has been awfully anxious, especially as the election has been moving closer, never leaving his office without his bodyguards. He’s probably letting his office check for wiretap every two hours. Akechi wonders if he even refrains from opening mail in fear of seeing a calling card, which would cause his treasure to materialize as they know by now thanks to Akechi’s investigations alongside the Thieves.

Shido’s anxiety would be laughable if Shido wasn’t such a ticking time bomb with this newly developed anxiety. Akechi can usually determine whether or not he is angry within the first few seconds of a call. That being said, talking to Shido is usually a gamble. Following the broadcasting of the calling card, Shido had been furious. He is a seasoned and normally unemotional politician, but he'd been rattled by the attack, and Akechi could not predict how he'd respond to the new information.

At the end of the corridor, the skyscraper’s office receptionist—very beautiful, high heels, tight skirt—smiles timidly at Akechi. “Minister Shido is expecting you, Akechi-kun.”

“Yes, that is why I’m here.” He smiles back and casually compliments her on her frock as she smiled up at him and presses the switch on the intercom. "Akechi-kun's here, Sir."

"Send him in", says the metallic voice, and the red light of privacy goes on above the door. Akechi goes through the door and closes it softly behind him. Several men are there, Shido is staring at some documents and only briefly glances away, then orders the room cleared. “That’s all for now. We’ll look into this later.”

Shido walks around his desk to sit down in his leather chair. While the men are leaving, Akechi tries to use his detective skills to predict Shido’s mood. The room is cool, or perhaps it’s the venetian blinds that give it an impression of coolness. They throw bars of light and shadows across the dark carpet to the edge of the big central desk. There, the weak sunshine stops so that the tall figure behind the desk sits in a pool of suffused reddish shade. Judging by the piles of papers on his desk, Shido’s busy with election preparations. When they’re alone behind closed doors, Akechi recognizes that a repetition of his interview is running on the TV. Shido doesn’t gesture to the chair opposite him across the desk, so Akechi just stands with his arms attentively crossed behind his back.

 _“…convinced he is able to enact important policy and turn our vision of a just, brave new world—“,_ his own voice fills the silence, coming from the Flat TV on the wall.

“Shall I turn it off?”, Akechi suggests.

“Leave it on”, Shido says. “If I like one sound in the world, it’s the sound of my cock getting sucked.”

Akechi remains for a moment as though absorbed in reflection, then he resumes: “It was quite the emotional performance, but it seems I was able to pave the way for giving both the public _and_ the police a nice closing point for the mental shutdown cases.” Akechi watches himself on the screen. “That being said, I figured it might be a convenient opportunity to put you in a decent light—I hope my statement will prove useful for the results tonight.”,

“We’ll see”, Shido says, turning on his chair to face him directly. “More importantly, what about those Phantom Thieves? I thought you said they were taken care of.” He expectantly taps his fingertips on the desk, a pile of death certificates in front of him. “The SIU reported that only six bodies were found, one of them that Sakura bastard. What about the remaining two?”

“I was able to get rid of most of them”, Akechi responds, remaining calm. “I highly assume that they’ve gone into hiding, but, those two in particular…”, Akechi says, waving his hand. “They’re by far the weakest, both physically and mentally. I am certain that they won’t pose any threat to us.”

“I think I’ve heard that before…”, Shido says and sounds very unamused. “Didn’t you tell me ‘they’re weak without their leader’? I remember very clearly you saying they’d be ‘easily deceived, and without their leader, they’re truly nothing’ or something?”

Akechi swallows silently. “Well, the operation was… more turbulent than expected.”

“And you didn’t find it necessary to inform me about this? Do you think I’m an idiot?”, Shido says, throwing the pile of death certificates back on the desk.

“I intend on framing it as a falling-out in my public statement today”, Akechi explains matter-of-factly. “However, stating on live TV that two of them are still uncaught, would only have caused commotion and overshadowed the election. As I couldn’t find them in Mementos, it seems they escaped to a different part of the metaverse I have yet to find, which means it would be far easier to wait until they…”

Shido’s glance is cold and he probably doesn’t have time for his hypotheses right now so Akechi cuts himself off, “I was able to hit one of them with the first shot. Unfortunately, they managed to escape the metaverse before I was able to land a second hit. Even so, they were severely wounded in the process and won’t get very far. The Cleaner is on their feet. I’m certain we will be able to dispose of them with ease within the next days.”

There’s a pause.

“Wait”, Shido scoffs. “You _missed_?”

“I… uhm. Well, yes, I suppose.”, Akechi says, blinking once, which is followed by a breathy sound from Shido, the meaning of which he is unable to define.

“Now what”, Shido says, somewhere between spiteful and something distantly resembling amusement, “Did your _hair_ get in your eyes or something!?”

There’s a short silence. It takes a moment to let this sink in before Akechi realizes he is made fun of for his shooting skills.

“Well, to tell the truth, it was more a question of bad luck, rather than skill.”, Akechi says dead serious, extremely taken aback at the insult. “One of the Thieves managed to injure my dominant shooting hand.”

“You didn’t let them run off on purpose, did you?”, Shido accuses him blatantly.

“Sir, that’s—“, Akechi scoffs defensively, averting his gaze for a moment. “Shido-san… I understand that it may have seemed as if I was trying to actively discourage you from getting rid of them, and I duly apologize for my mistake in letting them escape. But may I ask you to trust me on this matter that there was no personal involvement whatsoever. I don’t care about them any more than about their leader”, Akechi says with a professional, cold-hearted demeanour.

Shido glances at him, seeming to contemplate his words while Akechi blinks against the sunlight that is streaming from behind Shido’s outline. He can read nothing in his expression. Standing there with the large desk between them, he suddenly feels like a schoolboy in the headmaster’s study.

“Did you make sure to dispose of their phones?”

“Of course”, Akechi says. “I also managed to get ahold of their leader’s phone.”

“Good. Make sure to destroy that one as well. Whatever happens, the metaverse must not be exposed.”

“Of course", Akechi says. "It’s unfortunate that my phone was destroyed in the process, too—however, even if the metaverse has served us well over these past years, I suppose I won’t need it any longer.”

“I suppose you won’t.” Shido stands up from his chair, walking over to the large windows.

“It's been two and a half years since we started our alliance. Today’s the day we’ve been waiting for… We've finally made it this far.”

"We seem to have reached a turning point.", Akechi reflects. “We broke up the parties with as many public supporters and ‘sacrifices’ as necessary. The Phantom Thieves are finally a thing of the past, and will soon be forgotten about. You will never be hit by another political scandal because not a shred of evidence exists in the real world and all loose ends are tied up.”

“Now that all obstacles have been removed, I will finally take the seat as Prime Minister and lead this country to its revival.”

“It’s a new beginning for all of us.”, Akechi notes with a smile. "I'm looking forward to witness the inauguration of a new era with you as our leader."

“Well, it’s time to live up to my end of the deal.”, Shido says. “It’s thanks to you that we’ve reached this point."

Akechi takes a short, silent breath, takes a moment to let himself bath in the pump of adrenaline, the pleasant feeling of his heart rate speeding up at the praise.

"I’ll make sure to have you compensated adequately for your work. Whatever it is you desire, I’m sure we’ll be able to accommodate whatever wishes you have.”

“That's very generous. However, it's just as I said on TV", Akechi smiles humbly. "I simply believed that your ideals needed to be achieved for the sake of the country's future. Plus, with this most recent case, my name has become known across the country… perhaps even the world. I believe that is more than enough compensation for my... efforts.”

“Very well.”, Shido says, waiting for another moment. He then pushes back his sleeve to glance at his watch.

“If that's all... then I need to prepare my speech for tonight now.”

“I need to get ready for my public statement, too.”, Akechi says.

“It seems the time has come for us to part ways, then.”, Shido says, half-turning to Akechi. “I think we’re done after the election festivities. I wish you well… for your future endeavors.”

“Luck seems to be on our side”, Akechi beams, holding the door open for Shido. “I’m sure we both have a bright future before us.”.

While they’re both walking side by side through the corridor, Akechi glances thoughtfully up at the portraits of previous Prime Ministers that adorn the wall of the hallway.

“It really is a shame”, Akechi says casually while glancing upon them. “So many of them were uninspiring, unfitting for the task.”

“For too long, the world has been left to men of small stature and still less ambition”, Shido grumbles, his gaze fixed straight ahead. “Men chosen to be forgettable.”

“Well… the world won’t forget the next one.”, Akechi says, and they both grin when their ways part.

 

 

********* **

 

“Ah—please wait, Akechi-kun!”, a cute announcer girl greets him. “You will be in a different studio tonight. Please let me guide you.”

She escorts him to the main news floor. The newsroom is louder than usual, rambunctious and zippy. People are moving around like electrons around him in a heated steel spoon. Things are definitely on the boil. Lots of people are standing around talking while stylists do his hair and makeup and try to fix him up last-minute. The show host hurries over. Akechi hasn't met him before. He’s a very popular evening news reporter and showman. Many nights in his childhood Akechi had seen him badger people into submission at primetime.

“Ah, it is such a pleasure you could make it, Akechi-kun,” he greets enthusiastically. “You look gorgeous, as always!”

“Thank you, that’s all that matters”, Akechi smiles. They both laugh. The ice breaks.

“Three minutes till we go live,” one of the staff technicians alerts them.

“My deepest apologies for being late”, Akechi says in earnest while taking a seat on the studio furniture. “We are in the middle of investigations, and due to the urgent suspicion of a connection to the Phantom Thief case, I was urgently needed at the crime scene.”

“Oh, please, do not apologize—I can only imagine what your timetable must look like nowadays. We are thrilled that you managed to come despite your tough schedule. All of Japan is currently glued to their screens waiting for your statement, but you seem calm and confident as always—wonderful!”

“Well, the recent incidents didn’t leave me much time to prepare for interview questions. I suppose I’ll have no choice other than simply be myself”, Akechi says casually, puts his notes away and looks up at the ceiling when the studio lighting is adjusted; the serious and dark, dimly lit atmosphere in sharp contrast to the colourful rainbow studio usually used for his appearances in the morning and afternoon shows.

They don’t even have enough time to go through sample questions, and the moment someone has clipped the microphone onto Akechi’s jacket, the cameraman gives them the sign. “Starting in 3…2…”

“Excuse me, but… how many people are watching this right now?”, Akechi whispers briefly while they stare at the countdown on the instructions screen. He carefully adjusts his tie. “This is my first time doing a live interview, to be honest, so I do feel a bit nervous.”

The host shoots him a grin. “About 127 million, I’d say!” The news opening jingle starts to play and Akechi feels his heart flutter in an awfully addictive way for a second.

“Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen of Japan”, the host says into the camera when the show starts, tone serious, his smile washed away. "Our whole nation has been shaken, ridden by terror ever since the first mysterious mental shutdown occurrence almost one year ago. As breaking news have reported, police officials have now revealed that the controversial Phantom Thieves case has finally found its closure with the tragic death of seven high schoolers, leaving us speechless, without answers to our burning question: How could all of this happen?"

He turns to Akechi, the camera’s focus following. “It is a great pleasure to have a well-known special guest, ace detective Akechi Goro, who has been working on the case alongside the Special Investigation Unit for the past year, here with us tonight for an exclusive interview. As we all know, thanks to Akechi-kun, the SIU has only recently been able to catch the leader of the criminal organization infamously known as the Phantom Thieves.”

“Good evening.”, Akechi says, smiling into the camera.

“Akechi-kun, first of all”, the host says, shifting in his seat, “Could you please give us insights about the current state of investigations regarding the terrible incident that happened last night?”

“Of course.” Akechi starts in his usual firm detective voice, “As the case is currently under investigation, no information concerning the victims’ identities can be revealed at this point. However, I can confirm that yesterday evening, the dead bodies of seven members of the Phantom Thieves and an accomplice have been found dead in a back-alley coffee shop near Yongen-Yaya station. An elderly woman who runs a second-hand store close to the café had heard gun shots and screams coming from inside the closed café, and subsequently informed the police.”

“And you were also called to the crime scene?”, the host asks.

“That is true”, Akechi says. “In fact, I coincidentally happened to be close by at that time, so I was there only few minutes earlier before the police officers arrived.”

“And what did you find there?”

Akechi stills for a second, flinching slightly. “One body was found in the restroom, shot with one bullet. The weapon was found on the floor near the body. The others were shot dead with several bullets, either lying in a booth or bled to death on the stairway. Unfortunately, the medical assistance was merely able to confirm their deaths.”

“How horrifying. So the cause of death had not been supernatural in any way?”

“According to postmortem examinations, the cause of death was confirmed to be gunshots for all of them, and the manner was homicide.”

“But what led to such a terrible outcome, Akechi-kun?”, the host says. “As the prosecutor’s office has confirmed, the leader of the Phantom Thieves committed suicide in prison custody only a week ago. Could the incident in Yongen be linked to the death of their leader?”

“Following the suicide of their leader, we first assumed that the rest of the group disbanded, given that no calling cards or changes of hearts had occurred ever since. Their whereabouts were unknown to us as they immediately went into hiding...”

“Until recently, when a series of mental shutdowns shook the nation to the core”, the host continues, pulling up his notes. “Three business-close politicians, one minister, a high-ranking member of the prosecutor’s office, a media director, an investor and two police officers—altogether nine men have been killed by mental shutdowns. And I suppose you believe that these cases are linked to the Phantom Thieves as well?”

“Yes. That is correct.”

“But why all these people in such a short amount of time? How does this fit the Phantom Thieves’ usual course of action?”

“Given the circumstances, it seems possible that the targets of the mass mental shutdowns were accomplices they no longer found trustworthy”, Akechi argues. “More likely, however, is the possibility of a panic reaction following the suicide of their leader. As you mentioned, it was highly uncharacteristic for the Phantom Thieves to kill that fast; therefore, an emotional knee-jerk reaction would be highly thinkable.”

“So, you think the grief over their leader's death caused them to panic? Because they were stressed, anxious to be caught as well?”

“It is a possibility we currently consider”, Akechi agrees. “Upon failing, they tried to kill as many people as possible before their group would be brought to court--including myself.”

“We all saw the video recording they broadcasted on live TV. So they were fake?”

“At the crime scene, we found evidence on the laptop of one of them that proved the recordings to be edited. They tried to go up against me one last time.”

“Which leads us back to the tragic incident of last night. But, Akechi-kun, what exactly happened in the café back then?”

“The state of the crime scene as well as the circumstances of the murders highly indicate that the group had a falling-out”, Akechi reveals. “Furthermore, our evidence suggests that the carnage has been plotted by one single person. As we checked their mobile phones, it became apparent that this person lured them into the café, which has been used as one of their hideout spots, tricking them into believing that their leader was still alive. The state and examination of the dead bodies revealed no evidence of fights, which suggests they were probably taken by surprise, killed instantly, or by a person they personally knew. The fingerprints on the weapon we retrieved from the crime scene proved that the shooter first killed his comrades, and then turned the weapon against himself.”

“But why?”, the host says dead serious, disheartened. “What caused these criminals, who allegedly worked together for a whole year, to suddenly start killing each other?”

“In the absence of any sort of final testimony, we don't know what initially caused their falling-out”, Akechi says. “We cannot say for sure whether the murders were following a personal grudge, or an act of revenge. The leader of the group had been a transfer student of Shuujin academy, whom the others, a major part of them Shuujin students, only had gotten to know recently. It is possible that their interpersonal bonds were far more shallow than we initially assumed. Considering their nature as thieves, even a large sum of money could have been the topic of dispute. ”

“To think that they had been so young”, the host says. “It truly must have been a horrible sight to arrive at the crime scene first.”

“Well...” Akechi folds his hands in his lap, his gaze falling low. “You see… In a way, I feel personally responsible for this… unfortunate turn of events. Up until now, I was not allowed to disclose this confidential information due to tactical reasons relating to the investigation… but in order to catch their leader, I have been working undercover alongside the Phantom Thieves for several weeks.”

There’s a small pause and Akechi distantly wonders what Shido’s reaction is right now.

The host inhales, trying to process what he had just heard. “Akechi-kun, that is such a big reveal!”, he blurts, voice breathless with shock. “Let me repeat that... So you had to work as a double agent alongside the Phantom Thieves!? But… Akechi-kun, how did you even figure out their whereabouts, and how did you get in touch with them?”

“I undertook private investigations ever since the Madarame incident and very soon found a suspect who supported a strong suspicion of membership of such an organization.”, Akechi says. “To find about the true nature of their methods, it was of course necessary for me to get closer to them. I approached him, offered my help, and managed to gain his trust. While working undercover, I had to convince them that I am trustworthy.”

“But why didn’t you immediately catch them after they started the mass killings? You should have known their identities, didn’t you?”

“They immediately went into hiding after the suicide. Of course, the police was on high alert. Considering it was me who was responsible for his arrest, I was right in the line of fire; not only because I betrayed them, but also because they held me responsible for their leader’s suicide...” He pauses. “Which is why I was ready for them to get back at me for revenge. However, such a cruel falling-out… was not something we anticipated.” After a moment of grappling with seemingly mixed emotions, Akechi shakes his head with bitterness. “I… still cannot comprehend why they would turn and blatantly murder people like that.”

“So you got to know their methods... But wasn’t it extremely risky, working together with the most dangerous criminals in our history?”

“It was the only possible way to figure out their means. Since I am the same age as most of them, it was significantly easier for me to discover them and gain their trust”, Akechi says. “Naturally, I always had the option to ask to be pulled out of the operation. Still, it was important to me personally to carry this through to the end.”

“That is amazing, Akechi-kun, and I suppose no one would have been more suitable for such a dangerous mission”, the host claims, “given the resentment you held against them.”

“You think… I resented them?”, Akechi asks, averting his gaze thoughtfully. “Well, in fact… I didn't hate them.”, he says slowly. “While also witnessing their crimes as thieves, how they tried to force their own justice onto the world by any means necessary, I... also got to know them as just a bunch of teenagers, trying to fight back at those who suppressed them…and…” He frowns for a moment. “…please don’t misunderstand; but in a certain way, I…could relate to their way of thinking a bit.”

“What an unexpected, 'change of heart', if you'll excuse my phrasing”, the host says highly captivated. “You have been standing up against them for so long, it is truly surprising to hear these words coming from the ace detective himself!”

“That was before the serial killings began, of course…”, Akechi proceeds quickly, “which also confirmed that they had indeed been behind all the mental shutdowns in the past.” Akechi shuts his eyes in utter disappointment. He stays silent for a moment, seemingly reluctant to continue. “But, nevertheless, when the news of their leader’s suicide came to my attention, I was shocked, and… I…felt…sorry for him. I found that he was, in more than a way, similar to me, in his strong determination to follow his sense of justice. He could have been… if he hadn’t chosen the wrong path, I feel that he could have been… a good, righteous person.” Akechi shakes his head. “I hope he found his peace.”

“Still seeing the good in the bad, despite all the troubles you had to go through,” the host says. “Akechi-kun, you certainly have a heart of gold.”

“Well… I wonder about that”, Akechi says, his composure falling just a bit. “During this undercover mission, I… had to pretend every day, lie straight to their faces… and, to be honest... it was an enormous burden for me. At times, it felt difficult just to breathe...” His voice trails off. “Because while I was there, looking them in the eye... I knew the day would come where I would have to betray them, and I’d have to...”

Akechi closes his eyes.

“Knowing him personally, I suspected that he might commit suicide. Many comparable self-proclaimed justice fighters have followed the same path rather than taking responsibility for their actions… And because if he didn’t, then the others would come for him, because was the one who vouched for me until the end, stood up for me, t-trusted me...”

Akechi quickly covers his mouth with a gloved hand, falling silent. A dramatic pause occurs; neither questions nor comments break the silence; all eyes, all attention is on him. For the audience, it must be a heart-breaking sight to see their beloved ace detective suffering in silence. Akechi’s face is cast downwards, his hands in his lap clenched into fists. He inhales, composing himself before continuing with a sad smile: “I lived with that every day. That's the same thing as if I shot the bullet through his head myself… wouldn’t you agree?”

An awe-stricken silence follows.

The show host is speechless, staring at him, the well-prepared questionnaire in his hand long forgotten.

“Akechi-kun”, he catches himself, “I think I speak for the whole nation when I say… What you have done for this country is amazing. While the decision of the SIU to send you on this mission alone may be questionable, your motives and intentions have always been admirable. You have prevented many more deaths the Phantom Thieves would have caused. You are truly a hero of modern times”, he says, smiling and sweating, knowing that this interview would be the interview of his life.

“Well… I had to face severe criticism for opposing the Phantom Thieves over the year, with people verbally attacking me on social media and whatnot. So… I am happy to hear that.”, Akechi says quietly with a humble smile.

“Thank you for sharing your thoughts on the matter with us, even if it must have been difficult to do so.”, the host says, agitated and passionately rocking back and forth in his studio chair. “But even now that the terror of the Phantom Thieves is finally in the past, it leaves a big hole in our hearts as we ask ourselves: What led those teenagers to such a distorted, twisted sense of justice?”

“Well… In the light of the upcoming elections, many say that this underscores the urgent need of courageous leaders to reform our legal system of justice. As we’ve seen, the need has never been more impertinent.” Akechi pauses. “That being said, I don't want to take all the credit for myself. There were several individuals involved who made it possible to prevent even more deaths from happening. Without the tremendous political support, I would not have succeeded."

“An official endorsement for the upcoming election, Akechi-kun? Another big reveal of the night!”, the host comments, the audience cheering enthusiastically.

“Well, I might as well reveal that the United Future party supported my undercover mission both legally and financially", Akechi suddenly states. "I already suspected a long time ago that the Thieves might have been affiliated to organized crime groups involved in criminal activities like drug trafficking, money laundering, smuggling firearms, even directly engaged in terrorist activities or closely connected to such activities. That was merely a hypothesis of mine back then, but as time progressed, it was strongly supported by evidence. They offered their 'powers' to others for a wide variety of crimes, sought only profit, using any means at their disposal."

"So all those allegedly 'righteous' changes of hearts were merely a means to distract the police from their actual business..."

"The Thieves represented the most harmful form of criminality facing mankind in the twenty-first century. The country’s policies and laws sought to deter the Phantom Thieves' activities, but failed to disrupt their criminal networks. The breadth of the problem could not be handled by the police force, nor the government on its own. Therefore, the United Future party enormously appreciated me as a valuable tool for cooperation in the struggle against their crimes which threatened to affect the social, economic and political stability." Akechi shakes his head. "While other prominent figures were hesitant to act, fearful to fall victim to the Phantom Thieves if they would step up against them, Representative Shido took countermeasures. The commitment of the United Future party was essential to..."

He host’s lower lip is wobbling as he tries to decide the right place to intervene. "I don't want to interrupt but I do want to be clear about this, Akechi-kun... You are saying that Representative Shido and you have been closely working together _all_ this time!?"

Akechi nods briefly. “That is correct. Only through concerted efforts, and thus demonstrating the joint determination of our nation to combat organized crime, we were able to succeed", he states. "The Phantom Thieves were well aware of this cooperation, too—which is the reason why they opposed us, of course.”

“They attempted to shift the blame on you and Representative Shido", the host reads from his notes, "claiming that the police had been manipulated in order to get the Minister into office."

“Yes, that was the lie they wanted to spread. However, I am living proof that the exact opposite is the case.” Akechi smiles brightly into the camera, making sure to sound extra ironic. “Today is election day, after all… if it all had just been a feud of the opposing party in order to get elected, they would urgently start to get rid of unnecessary accessories aware of their treacherous crimes. You’d all know whether the claims of the Phantom Thieves happened to be true—if I’d mysteriously disappear within the next couple of days, that is."

The host starts laughing along with the thrilled audience; and although he is laughing, an expression of pain seems to have taken hold of the host’s features. He is subtly holding his earpiece, listening to a shouting match that is under way in the gallery. The director is demanding that the dramatic interview should continue and to hell with the schedule; the editor is shouting that they should get away from it before the kid changes his mind and ruins a sensational story. An ashtray crashes to the floor, someone curses very crudely and someone swears while stressedly trying to get the TV Station President on the phone. Lacking a clear decision, the show host chooses to just follow the script.

"Thank you, Akechi-kun. Now we're all excited to hear whether you intend to continue your commitment to justice and pursue a private detective career?"

"I plan on laying low for now, focus on my university entrance exams and hopefully be accepted into a good law school”, Akechi muses. “That being said, I have been offered a long-term collaboration by the Department of Special Missions. They are currently planning the launch of a special cooperative initiative promoting international collaboration, which will use insights gained from the Phantom Thief incident to reform our world's legal justice system."

"And are you going to accept their offer?"

"The battle against widespread corruption has become a common task facing all countries. It would be a great honor to be able to devote myself to the international battle against organized crime", Akechi says. "That is… after I finished high school, of course."

After another round of applause and laughter from the audience, Akechi pauses, then closes his eyes, determination burning in his voice as he goes on, "The crimes committed by the Phantom Thieves must not be forgotten. What we have learned from this tragic experience must be further explored and used for justice. Ultimately, these acts of mass murder were intended to frighten us into chaos and retreat. But the Phantom Thieves have failed, and I will personally take responsibility that justice _will_ prevail in our nation. That is why I want to humbly devote my life to catching anyone who attempts to harm the safety of our nation and bring them to justice...”

Halfway through his speech the whole studio suddenly drowns in cheers of the audience’s standing ovation, and in the moment he opens his eyes again and looks down into their faces, Akechi Goro knows that he just made history.

"Thank you for revealing the incredible truth to the world today, Akechi-kun. As we’re unfortunately running out of time”, the host reminds when the cheers finally die down, “we’ll give word to the audience. You may ask questions now—Ladies, keep it professional!”

“How are you going to celebrate your victory over the Phantom Thieves?”, a man yells.

“Well, I haven't really had the time to think about celebrations yet. I perhaps wouldn’t mind taking a few days off—as you can imagine, I’ve been quite busy as of late.”

“A well-deserved vacation indeed!”, the host says.

“DID YOU READ MY LOVE LETTER AKECHI-KUN!?”, a female voice screeches next.

“Unfortunately I don’t have the time to read them all, but I do treasure every piece of fan mail.”, Akechi smiles.

“My, my, I’m almost jealous!”, the show host says. “I suppose with your recent success, fans are already queuing up asking you to marry them!”

"Haha, not quite. For now, I haven’t received any proposals.", Akechi smiles.

“Last question”, the host announces.

“What's your favorite position in bed?”, someone shrieks.

“Uh, this is embarrassing.” Akechi scratches his cheek in thought. “I’ve never really thought about it. Well… I suppose I usually fall asleep near the wall, so I can charge my phone.”

The studio drowns in sympathetic laughter.

 

 

********* **

 

Akechi takes two Valiums, drinks them down with some ice water in the backseat of the cab. All the way to the election party he distantly hears his own voice, his interview repeated again and again, and it’s everywhere, from news apps to huge TV ad screens hovering over Shibuya crossing to the mini-TV in the back of the cab. Akechi’s heart is still beating fast in his chest. His words have gained tremendous public attention. It even seems like he temporarily stole the limelight from the actual election candidates with his astounding revelations, which he finds a quite amusing side effect.

He restlessly bounces his foot just a little while fidgeting with the phone in his hand. So far, there has been no call, no comment or public statement from Shido’s press office. Worst case, Shido denies the allegation and subsequently publicly makes a fool out of him. Did he even watch the interview at all? Did he even care? There is no way of knowing how Shido will react to him revealing their alleged 'political' connection.

The cab driver is on the phone, mumbling too low into his headset in a language Akechi doesn’t understand. He seems oddly stressed out and distracted, sweat sticking to his forehead. The driver's eyes meet his in the rear-view mirror. Akechi briefly smiles at him. The driver returns a slight smile and quickly turns to the street again. Akechi turns to the window, staring out at the sulphurous glow of the city lights at night and relaxes against the car seat when the Valium kicks in. He gives in to the relaxing bliss. The die is cast: There’s no turning back now.

When he arrives at the Wilton Hotel, the election festivities are in full swing. Politicians in Japan have a shockingly low approval rate, and politicians don't tend to win with a majority vote. Despite the nation’s notoriously low voting rate, guests are crowding the luxurious reception area with its vast buffet this time, eager to witness history in the making. The spacious restaurant is decorated with fancy furniture, every wrinkle of the election forecast analysis projected on two vast TV screens. The giant chocolate fountains as well as a metaphorical river of champagne is flowing, guests washing down an endless supply of salmon, cakes and tarts; rumors, predictions and bets on the highest majority in history or even unexpected drops in votes due to the chaos that followed the Phantom Thieves' last calling card only serve to spur the partygoers on to more feverish efforts. Most wiser heads amongst the high ranking politicians are pacing themselves, but there seems little reason to exercise excessive restraint.

In the middle of it all, the ace detective effortlessly proves the center of attention for several media buyers, sponsors, celebrity guests, politicians and the deputy director, endlessly shaking hands and receiving congratulations on solving the case of the century.

“Your recent words have touched my heart”, a thick-waisted industrialist blabbers, his hand on Akechi’s shoulder, sweating and smiling. “What you said on TV… You know, it’s been tough times… this wave of mass mental shutdowns, I was so concerned… One of the victims used to be a close business partner of mine, before he joined the competing firm, one of my best childhood friends at that, it’s sad, really”, he reflects, sipping more champagne.

“I must agree. It’s terrible what damage the Phantom Thieves have caused”, Akechi states. “A lot of people passed away, but as unfortunate as it is—the future starts right here. Let’s not lose sight of that.”

“Still, Akechi-kun—I can’t believe that the SIU had you go undercover like that!”, a rich politician’s young wife exclaims. “Using you to get close to them since you're the same age as those teenagers was just too cruel. Talented or not, you’re still so _young_! Such a dirty job for such a handsome young man. Plus, using a high schooler for an undercover mission sounds highly illegal!”

“Oh shut up, I know how it is. Detective business is the same as politics”, the industrialist says, lowers his voice and draws closer so Akechi can smell the sourness of tobacco on his breath, recoiling slightly while keeping his pleasant smile; “When you are in a game to the death, it’s only the winning that matters: not how close the result, or how the game has been played.” He gushes, then laughs, encouraging Akechi to laugh with him, which he does, without hesitating. The industrialist seems awfully cheerful for a man whose formerly best friend was hit by a truck last week.

“To quote Machiavelli: The ends justify the means, right?”, Akechi says wisely.

“That’s exactly right. Those Thieves had to die, and as unfortunate as it is for some youngsters to get killed, it was necessary. You see, cutting jobs to save a company makes you unpopular—but how else would I be able to make profit and pay salaries to my employees? As CEO, I spend half my time spilling blood, that’s the job I do”, he reasons, shrugging. Akechi nods sympathetically. “It’s not always easy to be the bad guy, but then again, success always comes with haters.”

“Well, I’ve had more than enough haters already”, Akechi responds truthfully with a somewhat bitter smile. “There were times this summer I would receive death threats regularly.”

The CEO laughs and pats his back with his meaty hand. “Too good-looking, too clever for his own good.”

“Listen to me, young man: You have a very bright future in front of you with that smart head of yours. But remember this: Don’t be too intellectual, don’t look too successful.”, the politician tells him. “Always play to the crowd, praise the common man and let him think he’s the prince.”

“Good counsel. I will try to remember it.”, Akechi smiles.

“Ah, there he is. The star of the night“, the TV Station Director turns up in a pearl-gray suit, accompanied by his significantly younger wife. “You sure as hell stole the spotlight from Representative Shido with that interview, young man!”

“Good evening, Sir”, Akechi greets him, “It’s good to see you again, Mrs,” he tells his wife. “You look beautiful tonight. Your face has a... youthful glow.”

“What a gentleman. You really know how to charm the ladies, Akechi-kun.”, she giggles.

“You had us on the edge of the seat with your sudden revelations.”, TV Station President says. “Not that I’m complaining. Viewing figures were going through the roof!”

“You’re are remarkable young man. I do admire your courage”, his wife tells him. “If I had a daughter, I’d want her to marry a nice young man like you!"

"Brave and selfless. He's the kind of youth we need in this country.”

"The youth long lost interest in politics and morals. It’s no wonder some of them turn into radical criminals. They only care about their self-staging online, their smartphones and video games, while all of those are stultifying their minds", Politician Ooe claims. "The new generation is going to be known as the most apathetic and ignorant in history."

"And they aren’t wrong! It's a burden to be smart", TV Station President reasons, "You don't even get the satisfaction of uneducated people knowing they're uneducated. They're happy, and you are not."

"Paraphrasing Higjedideredoo and Kirkegard, being smart is stupid, and you should be an ignorant dumbass instead..." The industrialist says, gesticulating with the champagne glass in his hand. "’Only a fool can be happy’,or something like that..."

"The phrase is ‘ignorance is bliss’", Akechi tells them, then touches his chin and adds thoughtfully, "Although... Kierkegaards and Heidegger never said in 3 words what they could publish in a 200-page thesis and spend a career getting smug about."

Everyone laughs comfortably, captured by Akechi’s charismatic presence. This sort of game is just too easy to him.

"By the way, Akechi-kun”, the TV Station President puts his hand on Akechi’s shoulder and whispers to him in the middle of the laughter, “I might have accidentally told this _one_ young lady that you might show up tonight, and she urgently wanted me…”, he gently pushes him away from the conversation group, “Or rather _blackmailed_ me into introducing you to her. You might be able to deal with homicidal criminals, but I’m telling you—there’s nothing more _dangerous_ than a beautiful woman!”

“Ah, that’s really—”, but Akechi's reply gets stuck in his throat and his thoughts and the entire surrounding festivities suddenly fall silent when a young man in a black suit and dark red shirt and frizzy black hair passes under the low hanging metallic election party garlands, the sight sending a sudden, violent jolt through Akechi’s system. He jerks his head around and just then the other one turns around and their eyes meet; Akechi’s heart skips a beat when the young man looks at him with a deadpan look on his face and momentarily curls his lips into a the faintest hint of a crooked smile when he glances at Akechi almost as if they were acquainted, but just as quickly Akechi realizes that he mistook him for someone else and says nothing and the man realizes that he doesn’t know him and he moves on.

A wave of relief washes over Akechi when the man has disappeared back into the crowd.

“Thank God,” he mutters to himself.

“Oh my GOSH, it’s _Akechi-kun_!”, a female voice suddenly screeches.

“H-hey, wait a moment—“

The girl has the audacity to hug him from behind. He gasps, trying to gently step out of the embrace.

“Haha… Please let go. You're hurting me—”

“ _Finally_ I get to meet you… The _high school detective_ , Akechi-kun❤!”, the girl says and leans forward, carefully airkissing his right cheek. She smells inexplicably nice. Akechi just lets her, faintly but admittedly fascinated at the way her long brunette hair smoothly falls over her shoulder like silk. She is exceptional beautiful indeed.

"I'm just so excited to see you! You look even better in person!"

She lets go of him and Akechi can breathe freely again. "Haha, you startled me."

“Sorry about that. I’m Mika Wilton❤!”, she introduces herself, cutely clenching her fists in excitement. She has bejeweled sunglasses sitting on the top of her head and wears a shiny silver mini dress. “It's my birthday today, and hearing that you'd show up tonight is _totally_ the best birthday present ever! I was _so_ looking forward to finally meeting you in person.”

“Ah—in that case, happy birthday, Mika”, Akechi says, quickly looking around but the TV Station President seems to have disappeared in the crowd already. “I believe I might have seen you on billboards before. You’re quite the media personality, aren’t you?”

"Sure am. Did you want to check out my Wikipedia article?", she says and proudly presents her phone which is decorated with several cute kitten charms. On its screen, an article reads: _Mika Wilton_ _(born December 18, 1996 in Tokyo and raised there) began her modelling career as a teenager when she signed with the Tokyo-based Tanaka modelling development agency. Her early success in a popular casting show made her a fixture of tabloid journalism, and Wilton was proclaimed 'Japan’s leading It girl' of 20XX..._

Akechi briefly skims through the article. She’s the granddaughter of the founder of Wilton Hotels, sole heiress to the Wilton hotel holding, and a model worth several millions.

“Ah. You’re a bit older than me.”, is all Akechi says to that.

“Yeah, well, I’m a model. But I'm actually just here because my boyfriend wanted me to come”, she says, rolling her eyes with a dazzling flutter of her eyelashes. “He said there will be lots of media people and he’d introduce me. Anyways, meeting new sponsors is _super_ important for my career—that stuff." She waves her hand dismissively. "Turns out, it's just drunk old geezers talking about politics, and staring at my cleavage. It's terribly boring, and besides, it's not like _any_ of them will remember my name tomorrow."

“I see.” Akechi tries really hard to think of anything to fill the silence. Conversing with people his age, however, is always more difficult for him than with adults. He tries, "So, you didn't want to come? It's your birthday, after all. You should be enjoying yourself instead."

"Well, you see, although I'm a model, I’m a clever woman", Mika claims. "I really am. I'm studying for a degree and everything. But until 5:58 PM, every day, I simply do not _know_ what I am going to be doing tomorrow, whereupon my day of castings or job will be emailed to me. That is because, by signing up to be a professional model, I signed away my right to ever commit to attending a birthday party, doctor’s appointment, wedding, holiday, family member’s funeral in case I get a job, or really, really, mega important request casting that I SIMPLY HAVE TO GO TO NOW NOW NOW!!!", she explains dramatically. "Anyways... that's the life I signed up for", Mika runs her hand through her hair and gesticulates down her body, "My clothes, my hair, my lifestyle choices and my life plans are plonked into the hands of my agent. So, basically, it's not like I can make any decisions on my own."

"Hm, that's... That does sound quite stressful", Akechi says, genuinely feeling something like pity for her.

“Anyways, I was bored to death, but everything is fine now since I got _you_ here", Mika says cutely, throwing back her long hair. "Let’s take a selfie in front of the chocolate fountain. Gotta make some people jealous”, she snickers, dragging him off, Akechi reluctantly complying. She does have a somewhat imposing flair that demands others to obey without question.

"Say 'cheese'!" They both smile, and she snaps the picture.

"We look _so_ good together", Mika says while checking the picture. They both have some sort of cat ears sticker effect which Akechi finds unnecessary but does not comment on. Mika promptly posts the picture on her Instagram. “Oh my God, a selfie with Akechi-kun❤!”

“So, where’s your boyfriend?”, Akechi asks, subtly trying to brush her off like all the other fans.

"He's sitting in the lobby lounge, and doesn’t stop talking about politics with old geezers." Mika waves her hand as if shooing away an irritating insect. "All I hear is blah, blah, blah. Politics crap."

Akechi smiles absently. “Well, actually I was told to show up here, too. But I must agree that politics are not exactly my forte.”

Mika rolls her eyes, proceeding with a surprisingly good imitation of a politician: _“‘No, you like, totally don’t get it... Japan totally sucks because... and I’m gonna fix it by…. So vote for me!’_ ”

"So you're not interested in politics?", he asks her.

"It disgusts me.", she says, turning her head to the side to glance at some random politicians next to them, revealing the weighty gold Gucci logo emblazoned on the arms of her glasses. “Anyways. You have a food blog, right”, Mika waves her hand excitedly. “So did you already try out the buffet? I can give you a tour, I mean—“, she makes a sweeping gesture to the buffet with her neatly manicured hands, “I basically _own_ this place.”

"Well, I haven't had dinner yet..."

She pushes an empty plate into his hands which she starts to fill with food. "We'll start with these petit four like jelly desserts, madeleine-on-a-sticks, one of those bite-size muffins..." Akechi watches her with a faint smile. “Oh, and have you tried the sushi?”, she points at the artfully arranged sushi. “You _have_ to try the sushi.”

“It looks marvelous”, Akechi tells her, and while she keeps filling the plate with a broad variety of buffet choices, he absently notices several middle-aged men in black suits standing at the hotel's main stairway, barely concealed behind the chocolate fountain. Akechi isn’t sure if he’s imagining things, but they seem to look in his direction several times. They wear dark glasses, one has a walkie-talkie. He looks nervous, his jaw working fast as he talks into the mouthpiece.

Meanwhile, the model picks up a piece of salmon sushi.

“Say aaah~”, she says, and Akechi blinks at the sushi while slowly turning towards her, hesitating for a moment.

“It’s not”, he says, sounding genuinely concerned, “Poisoned, is it?”

“Huh?! You _doofus_. I’m not a crazy fan!”, Mika claims while she pops it in his mouth without reserve. Groaning with inward pleasure, his mouth still full, Akechi manages to say, “Delicious.”

“And that’s not even the best”, Mika says, apparently pleased with his reaction. She points at the Italian part of the buffet. "You see, the good thing about a buffet is that you can take international food without having to pronounce its name”, she says. “I was in Europe just last week, it was awful, just à la carte service. But this way, you can get the trickiest menu items. Like that one! It’s called nyan… It was something like, nyan-key…”

“In fact, it’s pronounced Nyokki”, Akechi explains. “Italian dumplings made from potatoes, usually served with sauce.”

“Oh Goro-kun, you are so knowledgeable about food related things”, Mika fawns over him. “I mean, Sugimura’s idea of Italian cuisine is half an orange and some gelati!”

“Hey babe…”, a young man in a white business suit, violet undershirt, black tie, with brown hair joins them. He looks awfully rich.

“Speak of the devil”, Mika sneers and lets the man put his arm around her waist. “That’s my boyfriend. Are you enjoying yourself hun~?”, she says overly mellifluously but her boyfriend is busy staring menacingly at Akechi.

“Hi", Akechi says quickly. "You’re, here with Mika? I’m Akech...”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve seen you on TV”, Sugimura says, apparently seeing no need to introduce himself, instead simply assuming Akechi knows who he is. He stares down at the eggplant on the plate in Mika's hands. “You sure you gonna eat all of that…? It’s fried.”

“That’s for Akechi-kun, you dummy~! I'm just guiding Akechi-kun through the menu! He just told me that these are called nyan nyans!"

“White balls in sauce”, Sugimura says.

“See?”, Mika rolls her eyes dramatically. “He doesn’t even know that they’re called NOH-key!”

“Please don't say it that way, it sounds less tasty somehow.”, Akechi says sadly, frowning at the mispronunciation.

“Why'd you run away?”, Sugimura bitches at Mika. “Shouldn’t you be working on your career instead of playing around with him?”

“I was just being nice to Akechi-kun~!”, she pouts. “He’s one of the star guests here tonight, you know. I need to be the perfect host!”

“Well, what about you?”, Sugimura raises an eyebrow at Akechi, looking him up and down. “I haven't met you before. Where do you live at? Didn't they say you're some sort of… _orphan_ , or something?”

“That's true, but I do live a quite indulgent lifestyle nowadays. Right now, I live in a rather nice single apartment. It’s more than enough for me to serve my purpose", Akechi replies humbly (In popular media, it's called the “spider-man rule”—One can make a character likable by making them seem struggle to make ends.) “I earn commission fee from the police department for consultation and also for appearances on TV. I’m by no means wealthy, but I earn enough to live rather well by myself.”

“Lasana”, Mika says, still busy filling Akechi's plate, then tries again with big eyes, “Lasanya?”

“Lasagna”, Akechi says patiently but somehow, he is suspecting by now that the girl is only playing dumb to get sympathies.

“Big flat pasta”, Sugimura says, bored. “What do you even gain from knowing how to pronounce it, Mika? You can’t eat carbs anyways.”

“Aww, you meanie!”, she says cutely, handing Akechi the full plate who takes it with a confused smile.

“Whatever, I’m heading back to the table”, he says, possessively giving Mika a kiss on the lips while briefly playing with her hair. “Try to behave yourself, babe.”

While he leaves, Akechi bears witness to a sudden, drastic change in Mika’s expression and mood for the first time.

“God, he disgusts me”, she says bitterly. “What a poser. I can’t even take him seriously. He tried to write a Wikipedia article about himself last week but it was deleted the next day!”, Mika giggles gleefully behind her hand. “They claimed that he wasn’t ‘ _important enough’_.”

Akechi is a little bit surprised at her sudden snarky side, in sharp contrast to the prim and proper girl from earlier. “Well, that's a bit surprising. Why are the two of you together then?”, Akechi asks, feigning interest.

“Ugh, it’s kind of a new thing. He had a fiancée until recently... some ugly fattie with an enormous forehead, but he ditched her a while ago.” She nonchalantly grabs Akechi's wrist. "Anyways, let's escape from those oldies. I want to have some fun."

“Where are you taking me?”, Akechi says with a smile so tired as if close to dying.

“Don’t you want a tour through the hotel?”, she winks at him. “I can show you the indoor swimming pool~”

“Ah, that sounds nice, but I’d rather not move too far away and miss the election results.”

"Fine, we won't go too far. But we still got a couple of minutes left, relax!"

She drags him off and they hide away from the partying masses in an empty, luxuriously carpeted hotel hallway. They can hear the muffled party sounds coming from the lobby. Mika sits on the stairs, waving at him to invite him to sit beside her. Akechi follows her reluctantly.

“The warm chocolate and fresh fruit combo is amazing. It’s the best part of the whole buffet“, she says and sensually takes a bite off a skewer which she’s put under the chocolate fountain earlier. “Mhh, the warm chocolate… Ohmygod I’m in heaven.”

Akechi watches her eat the chocolate, his eyes now shining with somewhat childlike interest. There’s only one piece of chocolate fruit left on the skewer and she invitingly holds it in front of him, but before he can taste it she quickly snaps it off herself, giggling with her mouth full while Akechi realizes her betrayal. “Aww.”, he pouts quietly.

“By the way... I totally knew the guy who killed himself”, Mika says nonchalantly while snitching a madeleine from Akechi’s plate. “He was a friend of one of my model competitors, or maybe her boyfriend, who knows. I didn’t know back then, of course, but when they showed his face on TV I knew it. She probably thought it was super cool to have _the Phantom Thief_ as her boyfriend. Turns out he was behind the mass mental shutdowns all this time. I wonder how she feels now”, Mika takes a bite of the madeleine, “She didn’t show up to the super important shooting last week.” Mika gives him a pointed look and makes a hand gesture that Akechi would interpret as execution. “She’s probably super embarrassed she’s been dating a _serial killer_ this whole time.”

"Some of us do conceal their real selves very effectively under their social masks.", Akechi sighs.

"Sooo, what you said on TV… that was all true? You worked with the Phantom Thieves?", Mika asks with shining eyes. "All this exorcism-like stealing of hearts and reforming them: Can you do it too? Do you also have special powers that allow you to manipulate hearts?"

"Haha, well..."

"Do they allow you to brainwash women into doing your bidding? That must be it… There’s no other way to explain why you have so many fans—wait a minute, don't tell me... are you pelting me with your psycho phantom waves right now!?” She pulls off an act of being magnetically drawn to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “Ah—!? I can’t… resist… no... I must… TAKE ME! I’m yours! Deflower me!!!”

Akechi smiles tiredly, slightly patting her arm, unsure how to respond. “I’m… not doing anything, actually.”

“Eh? You’re not?” Mika seems genuinely disappointed. “Well, it was worth a try…”

Akechi finds this girl alarmingly stressing. She’s gorgeous looking and seems to be very good at acting, but she also seems to have a manipulative and cunning side, even more so than he himself. He urgently wants to leave the conversation. Silence follows when he abstractedly continues eating the rest of his Wagyu steak.

“Sooo… do you have a girlfriend?”, Mika asks.

“Huh? No, I don’t.”

“Really? Boyfriend, then?”

Akechi gives a half-laugh. "Of course not.”

“So, you’re not dating, like, at all?" She props her jaw on her palm while side-eyeing him with a dreamy, half-lidded expression. "Hmm. I wonder why you’re still single. You know, you always look so uptight and serious on TV. But actually, you’re just cute, in a ditzy, dorky kind of way.”, she snickers. "You're totally the type of person who helps old people mow their lawn and cross the street, aren't yooouuu? You’re the ditzy dorky boy next door.”

“Ha-ha. I’m not,” Akechi whispers.

While sipping on her champagne, Mika then goes on talking about a new Italian café which opened in Shibuya which Akechi has already visited earlier this week. Instead of pointing this out and subsequently have her bore him with inane details, Akechi just sits up straight while chewing some swordfish meat loaf with kiwi mustard she had picked for him, noting that he hasn’t eaten anything the whole day, and is so hungry that he cannot even really savour the taste of the exquisite food. He silently regards her with wide eyes, trying to mask his void of disinterest when she talks about how much of a disappointment her control freak of a new boyfriend turned out to be and how much she detests investment banking and how she would prefer a more charming and exciting man in a more dangerous line of work.

Since Mika is a dedicated fan and seems to have romantic feelings for Akechi already, he absently wonders if Mika would kill her unaffable boyfriend if he asked her to. Probably not; although she claims to hate him and there is nothing lovable about Sugimura except for his status and money, she would deny the request out of fear of the consequences. But what if he would force a mental breakdown upon her shadow, unleash the deepest desires within her heart? Would she cut him up, slice his throat with her long, sharp nails like a rabid aggressive cat? The thought doesn’t seem unappealing and Akechi can imagine the whole scenario quite well. Mika’s glossy pink painted lips are moving but Akechi can’t hear anything.

When she suddenly stops, Akechi flinches.

“Ah, excuse me. It seems I was lost in thought for a moment”, he apologizes.

She blinks, chuckles cutely. “I said this champagne isn’t quite cold enough, wouldn’t you agree?" She raises her glass. "We should get you a refill. We’re celebrating _your_ victory just as much as the new Prime Minister’s here.”

“Ah, that’s really not necessary… I'd rather not drink any alcohol.”, Akechi refuses politely.

“Oh, sorry—I forgot—are you still underage!?”, she touches her lips. “My bad. You’re half a cop, after all. Can’t be caught with booze at an election party at the peak of your career.”

“Ah—that's not it. I simply don’t want to risk a migraine, is all. I have work tomorrow.” (It's true, though he has entirely different reasons for not being able to drink—they say a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, after all.)

“I'm feeling tired for some reason. It’s terribly boring, isn’t it?”, Mika sighs, stretches out her long legs and yawns, " _Adult_ parties.”

“Ah… sneaking away for a bit is perhaps the only way to actually find the time to enjoy the delicious food. I’ve been engaged in conversations since I’ve arrived nonstop.”

"Yeaah... You don't have to thank me, you know. Though I wouldn't mind if..."

Akechi tenses up a bit, noting how he can smell her expensive perfume again. She’s suddenly sitting very close.

Akechi swallows down the bite, hurrying up with finishing his buffet plate. “Shall we return to the others?”, he suggests.

Instead of answering, Mika moves even closer, her arm brushing up against his.

When he turns his head to the side, her glossy lips are extremely close. He looks up into her eyes.

“What are you…”

“I want to break some laws with you, _high school detective”_ , she whispers seductively, her breathless enthusiasm pouring into Akechi’s face with no visible effect.

Suddenly, they hear the loud voice of a TV announcer from the hall and Akechi flinches back.

"Ah, it’s time", he says almost relieved. "We should go back."

It's 8:00 PM. The polling booths have closed, party workers in the hall are now nervously, silently shaking their hands respecting each other for the job well done. When Akechi and Mika get back to the main hall, like a religious ritual, they all have turned their attention to the news screens.

 _“Good evening”,_ the Tokyo1 TV announcer starts. _“We shall shortly be going over live for interviews with the current Prime Minister from the Kantei, the Opposition leader of the United Future party, and the leader of the Tokyo constituency. But first, the exclusive exit poll from 156 polling booths across the nation during today’s voting. It gives the following prediction…”_

The sound of a champagne cork being loosened in premature celebration follows; but for the most part the election party guests stand in profound silence. History is being made and they are part of it. _“With a 96% public approval rating a majority for the UNITED FUTURE PARTY!”_

The crowd explodes in cheers when Representative Shido appears in giant versions on the screens; he had built up such a cult of personality with the people that he appeared like a god, and through the cheers of the enthusiastic crowd Shido is sternly turning towards the camera, waving his hand as if to impose silence on their thunderous applause, his deep voice like a gently flowing stream with his reassuring tones, _“The election campaign is over. I am not frightened by what lies ahead and I don't believe the people of Japan are frightened either._ _Together, we're going to do what must be done. We're going to put Japan back to the top again. It is time for clear heads, not faint hearts, and I'm determined. My fellow honorable members of the Diet, let us work together to create a new era, in which our nation will be able to realize its full potential, ensuring both the control of Japan and better foreign relations…”_

Blah blah blah, and after a long speech of thanks he disappears from the screen, and the evening turns into a fully-fledged victory party. Akechi is soon surrounded by faceless old men, jabbering about Shido with their eyes mostly very liquid and bloodshot.

“A good man. Will bring on a new generation of talent, put new men in new places. That man is telegenic, well educated, has support from all demographics; and all those stories in the news make him look like a real-life superhero!", a pompous politician babbles, "I heard he saved a man from freezing to death once.”

“Really!? I heard he saved a woman from a burning house”, someone claims. “That man has the perfect biography to become Prime Minister.”

“He sees Japan for the wreck it is... and wants to fix this country...”

“A man like him could have gotten into business, you know, get rich... people voted him their 'ideal boss' and all... But Shido, he always preferred politics, wanted to change something, make Japan great again…” There is no denying the alcoholic lisp that has begun to take control of his voice as he repeats Shido’s life story to them, at one point accidentally spilling his drink and Akechi takes the opportunity to move well out of his range. “Ah, I’m sorry.”

"Haha, no sweat." Akechi’s eyes give away nothing, but he resents having to extend hospitality.

“I’m not surprised Shido managed to hypnotize the female voters of Japan. But he picked up their husband’s votes as well!”, Politician Ooe gushes. “And even Akechi-kun, our tragic national hero of justice!”

“Yes, I was indeed very surprised by your sudden endorsement”, another high-ranking politician proclaims, turning to Akechi, “And I'm absolutely sure your statement has caused quite some impact on the voting result, to say the least. But say, when did you start rooting for Shido?”

“As do many of us, I simply sympathized with his ideals“, Akechi says eloquently. “However... I did not expect my personal opinion to cause such an immediate media response.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t even be surprised if they made you a member of the cabinet on Shido’s recommendation!”

“You should try to run for Prime Minister last-minute, Akechi-kun! Who knows, with your recent popularity, you could beat even Shido!”

Akechi smiles snidely. Wouldn’t that make for a wonderful master plan. “That would surely be a big surprise for everyone involved."

"You idiots", pompous man says. "One has to be of certain age to run for office.”

“Oh my, isn’t Akechi-kun young enough to be the new Prime Minister’s son?”, someone comments. Akechi’s smile struggles to survive.

The festivities go on, and after the United Future party has officially won, the crowd in the Wilton Hotel increases dramatically as supporters, opponents and merely curious wait for the Prime Minister’s arrival. Midnight has long since tolled but this is a night when biological clocks will be stretched to the limit. Even at this hour it is clear that two ornamental fountains might not survive the night, or young secretaries either. The onlookers can see from the TV monitors that Shido’s convoy, escorted by police outriders and pursued by camera cars, has long since left and is now approaching. Less than ten minutes until they would arrive, cheerleaders are put in place to sing the national anthem.

The crowd appears happy and enthusiastic, and Akechi receives further admiration from left and right when suddenly, a voice pierces the party atmosphere. A thrilled hotel guard has appeared at the hall entrance, holding a phone in his hands.

“Who is it?”

“It’s the Prime Minister!”

These words have an immediate effect. The room falls into an expectant hush, everyone mumbling excitedly. An avenue to the telephone suddenly opens up in front of Akechi. Caught by surprise, Akechi’s eyes are blown open.

"It's for you, Akechi-kun!", the man next to him whispers sharply, encouragingly grabbing his shoulder.

Akechi steps forward, trying to look as modest and composed as possible. The guard, grateful to hand over the awesome responsibility, gives him the phone.

“Good evening”, Akechi says, “This is Akechi speaking?”

 _“You little, arrogant piece of shit”,_ Shido starts, _“Who the hell do you think you are, putting me on the spot like that? Are you insane? I told you not to reveal our connection by any means, particularly not on a national news channel!”_

Akechi’s eyes wander around the room, every face is turned to him and suddenly he gets this tremendous surge of feeling, this rush of knowledge that he’s the center of attention and everyone here envies him right now and his heart beats even faster because of this. It’s like he’s dreaming but he stays perfectly in character.

“Prime Minister.”, Akechi smiles, “How very good to hear from you. Congratulations. I must say, the result is truly excellent.”

_“Have you lost your mind, risking our victory just to feed your little ego? You think you can get away with saying that shit without permission? You'll see what retribution your little 'clever' comment is about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue."_

“Yes, they indeed have performed marvelously.”, Akechi says out loud, increasingly struggling to stay composed and contain his laughter. “It would not have been possible without all of their support.”

_“I'll have you know that if you intend on exposing any more details about our 'connection', I will not hesitate to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it."_

“I agree. Just a moment, please, I will tell all of them now.” Akechi turns to the audience, which is held in total rapture. “The Prime Minister wants me to thank you all on his behalf for helping run such a fantastic campaign. He says it made all the difference.” He goes back to the phone and listens for a few seconds more. “And he says he is not going to demand the money back!”

The room erupts into a great toast of applause and cheers. Akechi’s heart is pounding painfully hard in his chest. He holds the phone aloft to catch every last sound.

_“Damn you. Consider yourself lucky that I’m in a too good mood to care right now. Whatever you wanted to achieve with this little spree, I hope you came back to your goddamn senses. We’ll talk about this later.”_

“Yes, Prime Minister. I want to tell you that I’m thrilled, overwhelmed to receive your first call after your own election… I look forward to seeing you, too. Yes. I will be at Wilton’s later. Thank you, Prime Minister.”

He returns the telephone gently, makes sure to keep his expression heavy with the tremendous honor that had been done to him. He turns his face to the room. Suddenly Akechi’s face bursts into a broad smirk that he can’t hold back anymore, spreading across his face confidently, and while his eyes blaze, the gathering breaks into a series of resounding cheers, everyone attempting to shake Akechi’s hand at once.

He is forced by the crush of people towards him, and in the middle of these masses blinded by Shido’s excellent reputation and promises of endless power, Akechi feels strangely melancholic all of a sudden. The election will bring about lots of change. Many politicians and police ranks are now unfilled and by the weekend, most of them will have no job when Shido starts building up his ranks, some of them will be crawling back to Shido for more, desperately trying to suck at the nipple of power before the ship would sink and drown them all. It crosses Akechi’s mind that it would be actually fun to live long enough to watch them go down. With the clocks of ruin ticking and the world slowly crumbling towards its inevitable end, it’s just a game of russian roulette for Shido and Akechi now. Soon enough, the curtain would fall upon this play.

As quick as it has started, the adrenaline ceases flowing and suddenly Akechi is desperately tired. After weeks of being hemmed in on all sides, interviews and metaverse missions and without a single private moment to himself, he feels an overwhelming wish to find somewhere a little quieter and private until the festivities were over. “Sorry, I...”, he says, barely audible, to someone who attempts to talk to him.

"Akechi-kun…”, Mika suddenly blocks his way.

“Ah... excuse me. I’ll move to less crowded areas for now”, he tells her. “The Prime Minister will arrive any minute now. There will be a rush, so I don’t want to get trampled.”

“Akechi-kun, I... I hadn't realized you were so close to the new Prime Minister", she says with growing awe.

“…well, that might be an overstatement”, he smiles, then pushes past her. Mika stares after him with an extremely interested glint in her eyes.

Word of the Prime Minister’s imminent arrival spreads and outside the crowd gathers at the pavement, awaiting their new leader. An organized cheer goes up as the silver AUDI R8 with its battalion of escorts swings around the square, to be greeted by the brilliance of television lights and thousand flaring flashguns as cameramen try to capture the historic scene. As the car draws to a halt, Shido emerges from the rear seat and turns to wave to the crowd and the cameras before striding through the swing doors and into the building.

Through it all, Prime Minister Shido smirks.


End file.
